HTLJ: The Driffion
by Arianna18
Summary: Hercules and Iolaus encounter an indestructible monster forged by Hephaestus.


"Hephie! What are you building now? It looks mean," 'Dite made a face and blew a wilted strand of hair out of her eyes. She fanned her face laconically with one hand while she rolled her eyes at the heat… and the ever present stench of sulphur from the volcanic core of the mountain. Except for the sentimental memories associated with this workshop, it was, after all, where she and Heph had discovered being judged on the basis of appearance was something they had in common. And, more importantly, it was also where Aphrodite had discovered the truth of Heph's feelings for her.

Except for all that, well, she really hated the place. It was too hot, it was covered in grit and grime, it smelled awful, it was too noisy, especially when Heph was pounding metal, as he was now. And too often, it was filled with the accoutrements of war. 'Dite didn't care much for the weapons Heph built, and she liked the creatures even less.

The current abomination looked like nothing she had ever seen before. It had a dragon's head and wings, and it was all leathery looking, with a griffon like chest, forelegs and three toed claws melded to a lion's body, including very nasty looking hind claws, and a serpent's tail, complete with what she assumed was a poisonous stinger. It stood eight feet high at the shoulders, and was the colour of molten bronze, except for the eyes, which shone like rubies, and the fangs and claws, which looked like ebony, only a whole lot sharper. She supposed, in an academic sort of way, it was beautiful. It was certainly original.

She made a face at it, and stuck out her tongue when Heph wasn't looking. He spent entirely too much time building war machines like this when he should be paying attention to her!

Hephaestus finished attaching the head to the powerful, sinuous neck, then turned to face his lifelong love. Seeing her look of impatience, and the slightly wilted appearance of her hair and skimpy pink negligee, he smiled indulgently and set his tools aside. 'Dite pouted, trying to pretend that the sight of that smile didn't melt her heart, but, it was no use and Heph knew it did.

In answer to her questions, he looked back over his shoulder at the creature, and said, "I'm building the most invincible creature ever created. It breathes fire, can fly faster than arrows, can bite through any mortal or earthly matter, has an impenetrable hide, stings with a poison for which there is no antidote, and its claws can rip through stone. Isn't it beautiful?"

Aphrodite looked less certain. "No antidote? Is that wise? Shouldn't there always be some sort of cure, in case it stings the wrong person?" 'Dite had learned the hard way that care needed to be taken with how spells, and monsters, were created. Too many of hers had lacked the failsafe clause, meaning once they were in play, she had had no way to stop them. A certain scroll came to mind.

Heph shrugged at her question. "The poison won't kill gods, but perhaps you're right. Whoever eventually buys this little beauty may not be happy if it turns on them! I'll work on that."

'Dite walked cautiously around the beast. "Is it, um alive...uh, I mean, how does it work?"

"Alive? No, not exactly. But, it can sense its surroundings, and once it's turned on, it will do anything to preserve itself in the face of threats. Actually, it will destroy pretty much anything which gets in its way. At this point, it's just waiting for instructions."

'Dite frowned. "What kind of instructions?"

Heph shrugged as he considered the beast. "I don't know, something like, 'Flame!' he said abruptly, just after he'd moved Aphrodite gently out of the line of fire. The beast's mouth opened, revealing truly terrifying fangs, and it blew fire into the cave, melting some of the traditional metal weapons Heph had hung to decorate the walls of the forge.

'Dite jumped and shrieked, surprised and annoyed. "Yikes! That's it! I'm outa here!"

Heph laughed and pulled her into his arms. "Don't worry, my love, I have everything under control. It won't be fully activated until it receives the same command twice."

With a skeptical look at the mechanical beast, 'Dite leaned against the God of the Forge, and looking up at him through her eyelashes, purring seductively, "Then, you can leave it and come show me how you light a fire...."

Hephaestus gave a low chuckle, leaned down to kiss her while he snapped the fingers of his good hand, and they both disappeared.

Unbeknownst to either of them, there had been a third God present to watch Heph attach the head of the beast. Ares had heard rumours that Hephaestus was creating a new and improved war machine, and he'd come to check out the facts. Idly stroking his mustache, he had been leaning casually against the cavern wall, in the shadows near the portal (well, just **_outside_** the portal, actually), rather surprised not to have been noticed by his sister and her husband. Ares had watched and listened carefully to what Heph had said about his new creation and was impressed, very impressed. It seemed just the toy his favourite warlord could make use of in Mycenae. All he had to do was order it to 'flame' and it would be fully activated. Simple enough, even a boneheaded mortal should be able to make the thing work. The warlord was an efficient killer, but, that was about all he was good at. The man was a moron. 'Ah well,' Ares thought with a philosophical shrug, 'You can't always have brains and brawn.'

This lovely creature should settle the leadership question in Mycenae nicely. For too long the region had slipped into a peaceful, pastoral culture forgetting its glorious tradition of war. But the best part was being able to get away with the monster without having to negotiate payment with Hephaestus. What was that saying quaint little saying mortal children used? Oh yeah, finders, keepers. Now that he knew how to turn the critter on, he didn't need anything more from the God of the Forge...this baby was ready _to rock and roll_! With a deep chuckle of delight, he snapped his fingers, and both he and the mechanical monster disappeared.

* * *

"So, Herc, are you ever going to tell me where we're going or why? I mean, not that it matters, but sometimes it's just nice to know what to expect, you know...monsters, warlords, gods running amok. Not that I don't like surprises, I do. Well, some surprises more than others, I guess, but we've been on the road for at least an hour and you haven't told me yet what the message said, except that we're needed in Mycenae. Of course, it could be that that was all the message said..."

"Well, it..." Herc tried to interject a word or two...had been trying for more than half an hour, but Iolaus had not yet stopped to take a breath.

"Sometimes messages can be pretty cryptic, just your basic, 'Help, come quick' message, which means we'll have to figure it out as we go along, which isn't a bad thing. I mean, it's not as if we can't think on our feet. Still, it's a nice day for a walk. I love harvest time, don't you..."

"Iolaus, I..." Herc tried again, without much luck.

Bemused, Hercules gazed at his partner who was ambling along, swinging his arms as he talked to punctuate his points, flitting from one subject to another in one of his endless 'stream of consciousness' monologues. Herc didn't know whether to burst out laughing, clap a hand over Iolaus' mouth to get his attention, or just wait it out. Eventually, Iolaus would get irritated with not getting any response and he would stop, turn to Hercules as if he was wilfully withholding information, and with his hands on his hips, his chin jutting out, and his curls in their usual disarray, he'd demand, "Well? Are you ever going to answer me?" and then he would expect Hercules to explain why he hadn't said anything before...and then they'd be off on another tangent. Maybe, he'd try just once more.

"The air is always so crisp and dry, not so muddy as spring and not as dusty as summer and certainly warmer than winter, and, it's not all that far to Mycenae, we should get there by tomorrow. Still, I wish they might have given just a little more detail in the message. Not that it matters, like I said....."

"IOLAUS!" Herc shouted, standing directly in front of his partner on the road, blocking his path and capturing, he hoped, his buddy's attention, transient as that might be.

"What? There's no need to shout, Hercules, it's not like I'm not waiting for you to explain what's going on, as soon as you're ready, of course, not that I want to rush you, or anything. Just a few little details, like who sent the message, what they wrote...."

Herc threw his hands into the air, rolled his eyes, muttering, "I give up!" and turned to continue walking along the hardpacked dirt road. He stopped in midstep at the sound of the effervescent giggles behind him. Turning back to Iolaus, he found his friend almost doubled over in mirth.

"Gods, Herc," Iolaus gasped, "I thought you were going to let me babble all the way to wherever we're going, Mycenae, I guess, from the direction we're taking. I was afraid I'd soon run out of things to say. I can't remember the last time you let me ramble on like that. I was getting worried, wondering if there was really something you didn't want to tell me, but, you don't usually hide things from me, so I guess they just didn't tell you much. It wasn't a big scroll, I know, so probably there wasn't much written on it. Still, I wish people could once in a while give us a little more to go on...."

Herc had walked back to stand beside Iolaus during this explanation of how his buddy had once again been ragging him, and he was still doing it, as the laughter in Iolaus' eyes revealed while he kept up a constant chatter.

'Worse than a squirrel,' Herc thought, as he gave up and reached a long arm around his friend and clamped a hand over Iolaus' mouth.

"MMmmphhh!" Iolaus protested, but his eyes were dancing.

Hercules could not restrain his grin as he responded, "Alright, you got me, again. Are you ready to listen now? Just nod your head." The sound of chuckles in Iolaus' throat accompanied the bobbing of his friend's head. "Good. Well, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"MMMmpphhh!" Iolaus responded as clearly as he could, given that Hercules still had one very strong hand clamped over his mouth.

Eyes twinkling in response, Herc kept the hand in place, and said, "That's what I thought you'd say," then laughed when Iolaus rolled his eyes expressively and groaned. "I'll give you the bad news first," Hercules continued, and noticed that Iolaus' eyes had lost their laughter for the moment and were watching him closely. "A warlord named Bantos is creating havoc at Mycenae. He's moved in, taking advantage of the leadership vacuum, and general confusion, which has prevailed there for the past five years...you know, ever since Clytemnestra...."

Iolaus groaned again, and nodded to indicate he remembered the recent history of Mycenae. "Anyway," Hercules continued, "he's been up to the usual intimidation, burning out barns, raiding farms for stock, and villages for supplies and women, killing men who get in his way. So, we've been invited by the local village leaders to bring him and his warriors to justice."

Iolaus was standing, hands on hips, Herc's hand on his mouth, and, after he'd rolled his eyes at the last sentence, he nodded, to indicate he understood the bad news. One brow went up to signal he was ready to hear the good news. Hercules lowered his hand, and Iolaus feigned surprise. "Oh, does this mean I get to ask questions, like will there be any other warriors there on our side, or are we on our own, and are any gods, like Ares, likely to be involved. Or maybe the message didn't give that kind of detail...."

Herc slapped his hand back over Iolaus' mouth. "Do you want to hear the good news, or not?" Iolaus' eyes pretended innocent affront, as if he had been patiently waiting quietly and could not imagine why Herc was giving him such a hard time, and, of course, yes, he would like to hear the good news, assuming there was any, and Herc wasn't just teasing him....

Hercules dropped his hand and laughed. "Gods, Iolaus, you've got me doing it! You don't even have to say anything anymore, and I hear what you'd likely say play out in my head."

"Herc, it's not a good sign when you start to hear things," Iolaus said somberly, studying his partner with concern.

"It's especially not good when it's your voice I hear!" Hercules chuckled, as he turned to continue walking down the road.

"Hey!" protested Iolaus at the implied insult. Actually, not implied at all, but pretty direct. "What's wrong with my voice, aside from the fact that you don't like my singing, and you object to some of my jokes...."

Herc just waved a hand back at him as he kept walking. "It's not your voice, Iolaus. What scares me is that I'm beginning to think like you do!"

"And that's bad?" Iolaus stopped dead in the road, a hurt look on his face, waiting for Herc to notice he wasn't following along.

Hercules heard the plaintive note in his buddy's voice, and turned to see the crestfallen, little boy lost look, and rolled his eyes. "No, Iolaus, I'm not going to fall for more of your antics. The babbling brook routine was enough for one afternoon."

Iolaus' lower lip jutted out a bit further and he scowled, trying hard not to burst out laughing. Herc was never sure whether the 'hurt' look was serious or not, and Iolaus loved to tease him.

But, this time, Herc wasn't falling for it, so Iolaus finally started to grin. "Okay, I give up. So, what's the good news?" he asked pleasantly, ambling up to stand beside his friend.

Hercules grinned back, "You'll like this. The good news is that the villages of Mycenae are planning a huge Harvest Festival to praise Demeter, and we'll be the guests of honour if we can clear up the warlord problem before the festival starts in five days time."

Iolaus' face lit with a bright smile, "Now, that's what I call motivation! What are we waiting for?" Iolaus slapped Hercules on the arm in a comradely, 'let's get going' gesture, as he strode past heading purposefully along the road.

Herc just chuckled as he followed along. "I knew you'd like the good news," he murmured to himself.

Hearing him, Iolaus smiled. But, then, he started thinking about the 'bad news' part of the message, and the smile faded. Slowing until Hercules was walking beside him, he looked up at his friend. "In all seriousness, Herc, does anyone know anything about Bantos, like where he came from, is he a follower of Ares, how many men does he have, and are we likely to be on our own?"

Hercules shrugged. " I don't know, the message didn't say how many warriors he has, but warlords usually average between thirty and sixty followers." Iolaus grimaced at that. Thirty was a number they could handle on their own, but sixty was stretching it.

Ignoring his buddy's expression, Herc continued, "And, I suppose the villagers will do what they can. Given Mycenae's history, many of them likely have some warrior training, and some may even be veterans of Troy."

"True...not that there was a whole lot of fighting at Troy, but, they'd still know one end of a sword from another," Iolaus mused, then he shrugged. They'd work with what they had, like they always did. Thinking about the festival, he started to whistle tunelessly as they strode along the road that rolled through the hills between Corinth and Mycenae.

* * *

"Lord Ares!" Bantos exclaimed, surprised when Ares appeared beside him in the courtyard of the Mycenae fortress. "I wasn't expecting you...is there something you wish?"

Ares quirked an eyebrow and smirked, amused but not fooled by the way Bantos toadied to him. Bantos liked to think he was using the God of War for his own ends, to obtain power and wealth. He was a fool, but a useful fool, nonetheless, for a God who sought to create chaos and the glory of war.

"What do I want done?" Ares replied in a sarcastic tone, his voice increasing in volume with every phrase until he was shouting. "You _know_ what I want done! I want you to make war on the villages of Mycenae until they swear allegiance to you. And then, I want you to make war on Argos, and then Corinth...and eventually the rest of Greece...and then the _WORLD_!"

"Of course, Lord Ares," stammered Bantos, somewhat cowed by the aggressive God of War, "we'll soon have the villages under our full control, and then we will reap their wealth, to support a broader campaign."

"Hmm, yes, you are making _some_ progress," Ares conceded with a more reasonable tone of voice. "But, they are still too independent, too ready to resist you. They need to be taught a lesson they won't forget. They need an example of what will happen if they don't fall into line. So, I've brought you a little something to help!" Ares snapped his fingers, and laughed outright at the frightened reaction Bantos quickly tried to suppress when the huge metal beast materialized beside him.

"By the Gods! What is it?" the warlord asked, in awe of the monster, and not a little trepidation.

Ares eyed the creature with warm approval and considerable speculation in his eyes. "It's a war machine, Bantos. It's indestructible and completely deadly. It spouts fire, stings with poison and can rip through any shield mortals can devise."

"Magnificent!" murmured the warlord, as he walked around the beast.

"Yes, it is…and now it is _your_ war machine," Ares purred.

The warlord's eyes lit with pleasure. "You are too generous, Lord Ares, and I am _very_ grateful. Er...how does it work?"

Ares strutted around the machine, gazing at it, remembering what he'd heard Hephaestus say. "It senses threats, dangers, and acts to defend itself. Beware of it's tail. The stinger is poisonous and there is no antidote, at least not yet. You start it up by giving it the same command twice. For instance, I will say, 'Follow' and then, when you give it the same command, it will follow you, and do your bidding."

Bantos nodded. Seemed simple enough, though the tail worried him a little. "How do you turn it off?" he asked.

Ares frowned at the warlord as he snarled his reply, "Why would you want to turn it _off?_ The whole point of a war machine is to use it to make war! It will be years before we're ready to turn it off...if ever!"

Hastily bowing his head, chagrined to have been lectured by the God of War, Bantos replied, "Of course, Lord Ares. It was an illconsidered question."

Ares waved a negligant hand. "That's all right...I don't expect you to be perfect." Yawning, feigning boredom, Ares stretched as if impatient. "However, I don't have all day to stand around here. Take the beast and destroy a village to show the others what will happen if they don't swear allegiance to you."

"Yes, Lord, I know just the place. It will be done this afternoon." Bantos said with appropriate enthusiasm as he bowed his head to the God.

Ares nodded, content for the moment. "Good. Get on with it!" Bantos looked up to respond, but the impatient God of War had already disappeared.

Gazing up at the frightful machine, Bantos grinned. "My wish is your command," he murmured, with a cruel glint in his eye.

* * *

The village of Milius was nestled in the hollows on the farside of the mountain behind the fortress of Mycenae. It was a small community, numbering less than a hundred inhabitants, but it was known for its beauty and tranquillity. Flowers grew in abundance, every colour of the rainbow, and blossoms seemed to bloom unendingly as different fruit trees came to flower as the seasons changed. There were hot springs just outside of the village, where travelers took their rest, easing tired muscles and weary minds. It was a peaceful, pleasant village, and it was to be the site of the upcoming Harvest Festival because of its hospitable reputation. In short, Milius enjoyed a certain fame in that part of Greece as a result of its impeccable reputation for grace and charm.

Milius was the target chosen by Bantos to bring the other villages into line. For all its charm, it was neither large nor rich, so it had little value in terms of the warlord's plans for the future, other than its value as an example of what could happen to the others if they did not submit to his will. He'd planned to descend upon the village with no warning, but the beast was not the kind of creature to fade into the scenary. To the contrary, it created considerable consternation, even terror, in the minds of those who observed its progress toward the small community. Consequently, the villagers were warned, and were able to escape injury and death by abandoning their homes and all their possessions, to find refuge in the hills.

Bantos was content to simply destroy the village. After all, the men and boys who lived there would one day be his warriors...best not to waste them indiscriminately. He and thirty of his men escorted the mechanical monster through the forests and along the mountain trails. It seemed docile enough, following him as commanded, moving with the silence and grace of a stalking lion. Bantos had not yet seen it fly, and wondered if it had to be commanded to do so.

Late in the afternoon, they reached the abandoned village. The warriors, with their blunted sensibilities, did not notice the multicoloured flowers and blossoms spilling over every wall, filling every yard, bedecking doorways and rooftops. The sweet and subtle fragrance of the air seemed not to please them, if they were even aware of it. They did not appear to appreciate or admire the delicate architecture of the buildings or the charm of the village square. All Milius was to them was a target to be destroyed. It would please them more when all that was left was a blackened ruin.

Bantos gazed around the square one last time, then turned to the monster, which had trailed along behind his horse. The warlord had to look up, because the beast loomed over him, even when he was mounted on his finest, and largest stallion. Sweeping out an arm to encompass all of the village, Bantos commanded the beast, "Destroy all that you see." Then, to activate the monster, he repeated, "Destroy all that you see!"

It was to prove an ill considered command.

The dragon's head came up, and the red of its eyes seemed incandescent, roiling as if from fires within. Flames erupted from its dragonlike muzzle, a cloud of searing fire, which turned Bantos, and then his men, into cinders, before the beast turned to consider how best to destroy the village. The command had not included any particular reference to time. Therefore, the beast did not rush. Sensing no personal threat, it strutted through the village streets, occasionally using it's claws to tear out a wall, the better to inspect what lay within. Then, it took to the air, to evaluate options for eradicating the village from the face of the earth. Would it be better to tear the buildings apart, reducing them to dust? Or, would flames be the optimum choice, turning all they consumed to ash?

Fire seemed the weapon of choice. Opening its mouth, the monster unleashed a firestorm upon the vacated village. Rivers of flame poured from its mouth as it swept through the air. In moments, the thatched roofs of the village were on fire, billowing clouds of black smoke into the air, providing tinder to feed the flames, encouraging them to grow and consume all that they touched. Flowers and blossoms shrivelled in the heat, and blackened before they were reduced to ash. Within the cottages, furniture, clothing, jars of oil, stocks of food and grain for animals, spices and herbs all fed the insatiable appetite of the fires. The air was filled with the sound of shattering pottery and glass, with the snap and crackle of wood succumbing to flames, with the crash of beams as cottages, barns and sheds, crumpled to the ground. The fresh scent of flowers and blossoms gave way to the sharp odours of burning wood, grain, oil and leather.

Cherished possessions, letters and scrolls, representing fragments of past loves and joys, gifts and heirlooms, works of fine craftsmanship, carvings, jewellry, paintings, vases all curled or shattered, and blackened, then flared into ash. Tools in the smithy, in the potter's shop, in the bake shop and in the leatherworker's domain melted away to nothing. Trees, lighting the late afternoon sky like monstrous torches, limbs stark, twisted and charred by the heat and ravages of the fires, carried the flames up into the wind. Sparks, dancing in the air like malignant fireflies, were caught and carried by the wind beyond the village boundaries, to fields lush with unharvested grain, and to forests cool and dim on the sides of the mountains, as the fire sought new fuel to feed its insatiable hunger. Pungent smoke, black and greasy, billowed into great clouds which climbed high into the sky, a column of flame and smoke marking the inferno where Milius once stood, before being scattered by the winds that blew down through the valley.

Unfurling its wings, the mechanical monster took flight, to continue its destruction of all that it could see.

* * *

Hercules and Iolaus caught the scent of the fire on the wind. "Herc...do you smell that?" Iolaus asked, frowning as he sniffed the air.

Hercules' eyes narrowed as he studied the sky, searching for a sign of the fire. "Yeah, something's burning." As his gaze swung to the west, and froze, he pointed to the column of black, billowing smoke. "There, about five miles from here...it looks like a big fire! C'mon," he called over his shoulder as he raced across a field, heading into the rolling hills behind Mycenae.

Iolaus didn't need any encouragement. He had set off as quickly as had Hercules and was racing with his partner to give whatever help they could to those who were threatened by the flames.

It wasn't long before they realized they were heading toward what had been the village of Milius and that they were also heading straight into a raging inferno which was burning toward them, driven by the wind. Cutting wide, to circle around the smoke and flames, they continued on toward the place where the fire had started. Dread filled their hearts when they were close enough to see the magnitude of the destruction.

How many people would have lost their lives, not just their homes and possessions? How many more would die before it was brought under control?

The fire had burned with such speed, and heat, that by the time they arrived, there was little left of the village but blackened, smoldering ash. Iolaus' face was drawn and gray as he surveyed the acres of burn. "Gods, Herc," he muttered, "it's all gone...."

Hercules shook his head, frowning, puzzled by the extent and rapidity of the destruction. This wasn't the result of an accidental fire in a cottage or craftsman's shop. The whole village had to have been set alight to have left it razed so completely, in so little time. "We'll have to wait until it cools off a bit before looking for evidence of what caused it," he replied to Iolaus.

Neither of them spoke of the fact that there could be no survivors in the blackened ruin before them, but they were both sick at heart. The quiet was eerie. There should have been scores of villagers, and their children, milling about, having tried to save their village, covered with soot from the flames and smoke, mourning the loss of their homes. But, there was no one. Surely, not everyone could have been killed. They could not all have been caught by surprise...it was still daylight. Where was everyone?

Finally, his eyes haunted, Iolaus turned to look up at his partner. "Herc, you don't think everyone...?"

Understanding his buddy's question, Hercules shook his head. "No, the flames couldn't have caught everyone. There have to be survivors." Standing with his hands on his hips, his gaze scanning the area around the remains of the village, he continued with a perplexed expression, "I just can't figure out where they are or why they weren't here fighting to save their neighbours and their homes. Something's not right...."

Iolaus gave his best friend a quizzical look, but forbore to say the obvious. Clearly, a great deal wasn't right. But, he knew what his partner meant. There was something unnatural, weird, about all of this.

"Do you think the warlord and his band of merry men had something to do with this?" he mused.

Hercules gave him a humourless half grin, "I'd bet on it, Iolaus. This has all the trappings of a violent and crude warning to other villages to capitulate or else. But, what happened to the villagers?"

Wondering the same thing, and not particularly hopeful about finding any sign, Iolaus was prowling around the edges of what had been the village and the trails into the hills. Kneeling, he examined the ground beyond the burned area. "Herc," he called, as he stood and looked up toward the forested heights, "they went thata way."

Hercules strode over to stand beside his partner. "How many?"

Iolaus shook his head, "Hard to say, but the tracks look like most of the villagers must have passed this way, not too long ago." Looking up at Hercules, he speculated, "Maybe they had some warning, and all of them got away."

Herc nodded as he scanned the line of trees. "Let's hope you're right, buddy."

Just then, they caught movement at the edge of the treeline, as a lone figure stepped out of the shadows, waved and began to jog toward them.

"It's Jervas," Iolaus said with a smile, relieved to see their friend had survived the conflagration. He and Hercules set off to jog toward their old comrade, to meet him halfway.

"Hercules! Iolaus!" Jervas called out, relieved to see the heroes the leaders of the villages had summoned. "Thank the gods you're here!"

Herc and Iolaus gave each other a quick, sideways look, thinking the gods had little to do with them being there, but refrained from saying it. "Jervas, it's good to see you," Hercules asserted, coming to a halt in front of the villager. "What happened here? Was anyone hurt?"

Jervas shook his head, "No one from the village, at any rate. We all got away before they arrived."

"It was the warlord?" Iolaus asked, pretty sure of the answer.

"Yeah, I was watching from the trees, and I recognized Bantos. He had about twenty of his men with him. But, they didn't do this...." Jervas broke off, to stare at the smoldering earth. Everything they'd had was lost, but it was only stuff. It could be replaced. The villagers were safe. But, would they be safe for long?

Iolaus and Hercules waited for Jervas to finish as they studied his face, wondering at his expression. It was a strange mixture of awe, relief and horror. When he seemed lost in reverie, Iolaus prompted, "If Bantos and his men didn't do this, who did?"

"The monster," Jervas replied, turning his gaze back to them. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Monster," Iolaus repeated in a flat voice, casting a look at Hercules. First warlords, and now monsters. He'd give ten to one odds that a god was involved somewhere, and the look on his buddy's face said he was thinking the same thing.

"What did it look like?" asked Hercules. He and Iolaus had seen many more monsters than the average villager so they might recognize a description.

Jervas shook his head, "You won't believe it. The thing was huge, at least twelve feet high, maybe more. It was part dragon, part lion and, maybe part griffon, I'm not sure. It could fly, and it breathed fire...it unleashed a rain of fire onto the village. Everything burned in minutes."

Hercules frowned at the description. Whatever it was, it didn't sound like anything they'd confronted before. Iolaus rubbed his chin, pondering Jervas' words. "What colour was it?"

Jervas squinted as he stared into the distance, probing his memory. "It was bronze, and sunlight glinted off it's hide. It had red eyes, red like fire, and it looked like it had black claws. There might have been a stinger on the end of its tail."

'Sunlight glinted off...' Iolaus thought, looking up at Hercules, who nodded, as if reading his mind. "If it's hide is reflective, it might be metal," Hercules murmured.

"Hephaestus!" They both said simultaneously. "It's worth a try," Hercules said to his buddy.

"What is?" asked Jervas, who had not been able to follow their mostly silent communication.

"Herc'll go visit Hephaestus to see if he knows anything about the monster. If he built it, he'll know how to stop it."

Nodding his understanding, Jervas said, "Uh, there's just one other thing you should know."

Iolaus quirked an eyebrow, as did Hercules, both of them giving their friend their undivided attention.

"Bantos and his men rode into the village with the creature...but they didn't ride out."

"What?" exclaimed Iolaus. "Are you saying the thing killed its master?"

Jervas nodded. "Yeah, that's _exactly_ what I'm saying."

Turning to Hercules, Iolaus murmured, "Gods, it's out of control...."

His face sober, aware of the threat posed by something that powerful unleashed, and uncontrolled, Hercules looked toward the horizon, then back at his partner. There was no predicting what it might do next. "I'll head out to ask Heph what he knows about this thing," he said. "The two of you need to warn the other villages."

"Jervas and his people can do that. They need to roust out help to battle the fire before it burns out any other villages, and they need to find shelter with friends and relatives. I'll try to track the thing, figure out where and what it is...and I'll keep an eye out for the rest of Bantos' gang. Without a leader, there'll either be a leadership shuffle, or they'll break up, raiding randomly and independently." Iolaus sighed as he thought about it all. "What a mess," he muttered.

Hercules didn't like the idea of his partner trailing the monster on his own. But, he didn't have any better ideas on how to divide up what needed to be done. Iolaus was the best tracker Herc knew. If anyone could trail the thing, it would be him. "Iolaus, just don't..."

"Fight it on my own. Yeah, I know," he said with a tolerant grin.

Hercules returned the grin, and looked away. He knew he tended to worry too much, but Iolaus seemed used to it. At least, he didn't get offended like he used to, when he'd thought Hercules was suggesting he was incapable of taking care of himself whenever he realized the demigod was worried about him. Looking back at his partner, Herc nodded, murmured, "Just...be careful," as he clapped his buddy on the shoulder, before turning to go.

Iolaus gave him a pained look. One cautionary warning was as much as he could take without a smart-mouthed comeback. "Sure, okay, and I'll remember to eat right and get enough sleep, too. Gods, Hercules, relax. We'll be fine. Go ask Heph what this thing is, and what we need to do to stop it!"

"All right!" Hercules responded to the tart tone with a grin, his hands raised in a calming gesture. He knew he'd pushed too hard. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Where should I meet up with you?"

Shrugging, Iolaus turned to Jervas. "Did you see which way the thing went?"

Jervas nodded. "Yeah, it flew up over the mountain, as if it was headed back toward the fortress at Mycenae."

"Well, that's convenient. I can go after it and check on the bandits at the same time." Turning back to Herc, he said, "Meet me at Mycenae...."

"In the fortress?" Herc asked, his tone caught somewhere between uncertain and concerned.

"Hey, c'mon. You're not telling me I can't fight the bandits either! Gods, Herc, you never let me have any fun!" Iolaus complained, as if he meant it.

Hercules snorted. "Just try to leave something for me to do when I get back, okay?"

"Sure thing," Iolaus snickered. "Just don't be gone too long!"

Shaking his head at Iolaus' teasing, Herc gave the two of them a casual wave, turned and began to run north, toward Heph's stronghold. If he ran at top speed all night, and all day, he'd get there by tomorrow at this time. It would take him another day to get back. Not for the first time did he wish he could transport himself with the snap of his fingers like his relatives could, but the capability came at too high a price. He'd stop every once in a while to call Heph...maybe he'd get lucky and his brother-in-law would come to him.

Iolaus set off toward the pass through the mountains, while Jervas returned to the forest, to set the villagers their tasks of fighting the fire, warning other villages, and finding shelter.

It would be a long night for all of them.

* * *

Hephaestus returned to his workshop, a smile of contentment on his face, with the intention of finishing the work on his newest war machine. 'Dite was right, he needed to develop an antidote for the poison...and he needed to make the off switch more accessible. 'Shouldn't take long,' he thought as he materialized and looked around the forge. The smile faded fast when he realized the mechanical monster was no longer there.

* * *

The creature in question was, at that moment, circling high above the stone and wood fortress of Mycenae. While following its command to destroy all it saw, the monster was not entirely mindless. It had not been created for wanton, continuous destruction, but rather to be a strategic instrument of war. Accordingly, it was taking the time to map its surroundings, assess the terrain, the potential threats, and the key targets. As Bantos had found out, the monster had no loyalties and so it started with the stronghold it had been taken to by Ares.

* * *

While Jervas, his comrades, and citizens of other villages battled the fire, gradually bringing it under control when the wind cooperated and died down, Iolaus clambered up and over the steep pass, avoiding the more direct mountain path. Although the distance wasn't far, the terrain was very rough, and it took him a good part of the night to make his way to a vantage point above the fortress at Mycenae. Deciding it made little sense to forge on in the dark, without first assessing the situation, such as observing how many bandits still occupied the fortress, how many sentries were posted, and watching to see if the creature showed up, Iolaus gathered some branches of fir, made himself a cold camp in a hollow, and curled up to sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

Hercules was irritated that Heph didn't respond to his calls, but not surprised. Gods, even the friendly ones, were notable for their indifference to concerns other than their own. However, time was of the essence and he hated to waste it with a trip all the way to Heph's forge and back.

Hercules didn't know Hephaestus had heard him, and had set out to investigate on his own. The God of the Forge was smoldering with a deep and very real anger. Someone had stolen his prized creation, and from the sound of agitation in Herc's voice, it appeared as if they had figured out how to activate it. Well aware of his creation's capacity for destruction, Hephaestus was curious to see it in action, and he intended to steal it back.

* * *

When the sun rose over the mountains and valleys of Mycenae, it saw exhausted men and women trailing away from the fire they had finally managed to extinguish. Covered in soot, their first priority was to wash in the rivers and streams around their villages, and then most would sleep for a good part of the day. A few would stand watches during the day and into the night. The bandits were still a threat, and now there was a monster to watch for. Many had seen the destruction at Milius, and they'd heard Jervas' description of the creature. They all prayed it stayed a long way away from their villages. If it came, they knew of no way to defend against it.

The dawn also found Iolaus up and on the move. He'd found a position where he could keep watch on the fortress below. There was an observable disquiet amongst the bandits. Men watched the trails, wondering what was taking Bantos so long to return, and a few had set out to investigate. Others prowled around the catwalks and environs of the fortress, alert to the possibility of attack. Some were already moving to position themselves to take command, building coalitions of support, assessing the competition. A few squabbles broke out over the course of the morning which let Iolaus know the alliances in the group were fragmenting.

He scanned the skies and watched the forest intently. It worried him that he had not yet spotted the monster. Had it set out to find another target? Were others in danger? Or, was it a cunning creature which knew enough to keep its presence a secret until it was ready to strike. Either way, it was bad news.

Moving silently down through the steep forested hills, and then up the long cliffs on which the fortress was built, Iolaus kept to the shadows and whatever cover was available. He took the opportunity of incapacitating bandits as he came across them. Silent as a ghost, he'd move up behind them as they prowled nervously around their domain, knock them out, gag them and tie them securely to a tree. When he left, he took their weapons, until he acquired too many to carry and was reduced to hiding them, or throwing them off steep ridges.

He'd taken out ten of the bandits by late afternoon, and from the traffic in and around the fortress, he figured there had to be at least forty more of them to contend with. He grinned thinking that Herc needn't have worried about missing all the action. There were a few too many for Iolaus to take out all by himself.

The day was waning when he realized he was being stalked. There was always a risk in not killing one's enemies...they had a miserable tendency to come back after you. Clearly, someone had come across one of the bandits he'd incapacitated. He doubted any of those he'd taken out were currently tracking him. Iolaus might not have killed them, but he'd sure slowed them down with the odd broken arm, broken ribs, various superficial wounds on equally various body parts, and the occasional concussion. No, none of them would be trailing him...but, someone had found at least one of those he'd left unconscious and tied up and they'd alerted their comrades that someone was out here taking them down, one at a time. Now, it sounded like at least a dozen of them were stomping through the woods, imagining themselves to be master trackers, looking for his trail.

Great, just what they needed. A common enemy, a common cause, to draw their ranks back together. Iolaus had been happier when they'd been arguing with one another. And, he still hadn't seen any trace of the monster. Where in Tarturus was it? Keeping a wary watch for a twelve foot driffion, his fond term for something that was a mixed up conglomerate of dragon, griffon and lion, he carefully covered his back trail in an effort to evade his trackers. Regrettably, there were quite a few of them, and he knew they had inadvertantly surrounded him. He needed to break out of their circle, and then begin to hunt them.

It would be another busy night.

* * *

It had taken the night and most of the day, but Hercules was glad to finally have arrived at Hephaestus' stronghold within a volcano. Jogging through the stony corridors, he shouted his brother-in-law's name, irritated that Heph had not answered any of his earlier calls and saved him the trip.

He hadn't received a response when he raced into the forge Heph used as a workshop. Somewhere between dismayed and disgusted, he found it deserted. Where in Tarturus was Hephaestus...he never went anywhere. Herc called out again as he began to prowl through the fortress, aiming toward the personal chambers. Maybe he was just taking a break, or spending time with Aphrodite.

'Aphrodite! Of course,' Hercules thought when he found the living quarters also deserted. "'Dite!" he called into the air, "'Dite! I need to talk to you!"

"Yadda, yadda...I'm busy! There're a hundred petitions backed up waiting for responses, there're priestesses to advise, my masseuse is waiting and you never want to talk to me unless you want something, have you ever noticed that? Not very brotherly...so what is it this time?" Aphrodite had started talking before she materialized, arms crossed, frowning, looking irritated to be summoned.

"Um, sorry, Aphrodite...but, this is important," Herc started to explain.

"Uh huh, and what I do isn't important...is that what you mean?" she challenged.

"No, that's not what I mean! Why are you in such a snit?" Herc snapped back. It had been a long day and he didn't feel like having to apologize for wanting to talk to her.

"Well, if that's the way you're going to be, I have better things to do!" And she was gone.

"'Dite!" Hercules shouted, annoyed. 'Damn it,' he thought, sighing. This was getting him nowhere. Consciously shaking off his irritation and his profound sense of urgency, he tried again. "Aphrodite, please...I really need to talk to you for a minute. Please?"

She was back, still frowning, tapping her foot as if she was counting off the seconds of the minute he'd requested. "What?"

"I'm sorry that I snapped at you, but, a whole village has just been wiped out by something I think Heph might have created...."

"Heph would never attack a village!" she interjected defensively.

"I didn't say he did! Please, just give me a minute to explain, okay?" Gods, what was wrong with her today? Hercules couldn't remember the last time he'd seen 'Dite so miffed.

"Fine, explain," she replied, looking at her fingernails as if she was bored.

Hercules rolled his shoulders to keep from shaking her. "Like I said, a village was destroyed by something one of the villagers said looked like a cross between a dragon, a griffon and a lion, and he said it reflected light, which sounded like it might be metal...which sounded like something only Heph could have created, so I came to see if he knows what it is and how to stop it."

"If you want to talk to Hephie, why did you call me?" she pouted.

"Because he isn't here!" Hercules responded exasperated, almost shouting, then quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture, afraid she'd just disappear again.

"What makes you think I'd know anything about some awful mechanical monster?" she demanded, her eyes sliding away.

Hercules narrowed his eyes as he studied her. "You do know something about it, don't you? Is it what's making you so...irritated?" He'd almost said 'annoying'.

Aphrodite looked away, wondering how much to tell her brother. "I don't know where he is," she said, pouting. It might have seemed she was trying to change the subject, but for Aphrodite, this _was_ the subject. Hephaestus had taken off without a word, leaving her wondering where he was and when he'd be back...and 'Dite was not used to being the one left waiting and wondering. She was not pleased, and the fact he had disappeared because of his precious monster only irritated her further. Gods, she hated that thing. And now, here was Hercules, also wanting to know about the cursed creature, and wanting to talk with Heph and she had to admit she didn't know where he was and she felt humiliated and hostile.

"'Dite, the thing's deadly. If you know anything that could help me...." he cajoled in a softer voice. Mad as she was, 'Dite couldn't completely the miss the feelings of urgency, almost of desperation, that Hercules was projecting. Damn the beast! Fine, fine, alright, she'd tell him what she knew, little as that was.

"Ohhh, I hate it! It's ugly, and it takes all of his time, and there isn't any antidote for the poison, and now someone has stolen it and I think Hephie has gone to try to find it, and there's nothing I can do to help you, because I don't know anything else about the horrible thing." She rubbed her arms as if she felt chilled, and screwed up her face, the flounce gone, a vulnerable look taking its place. "He said it's indestructible... and that's all I know."

"Poison?" Herc probed, "What poison?"

"It's got a stinger thing on its tail, and there's no antidote."

"Oh, wonderful..._why_ does he make these things?" he mumbled to himself, not expecting an answer. 'Dite shrugged and shook her head. She'd wondered the same thing herself.

There wasn't anything more he could do here, and it worried him that Iolaus was tracking the beast on his own. "Alright," Hercules sighed, "Thanks. If you hear from Heph, would you ask him to get in touch with me. I'm going to head back and see if there's any way to stop it."

"Be careful, bro," Aphrodite frowned, "From the way he described it, I think it could even kill you."

Hercules gave her a long look, and saw she was serious. Oh, this was not good...not good at all. With a tight nod, he turned and jogged out of the chamber, heading back toward Mycenae as fast as he could go.

* * *

'Gods, how many of these guys are there?' Iolaus wondered in exasperation as he slipped further into the shadows to avoid three of the bandits who had wandered out of the forest directly in front of him. He couldn't afford the noise it would make to deal with them head on. They had ambled past, and he was moving in the opposite direction, when one turned back and spotted him.

"Hey! There he is!" the outlaw shouted and the others wheeled around, intent upon catching the man who had taken out so many of their comrades that day.

Iolaus turned back to face them...and the fight was on. Normally, three would have presented no difficulty, and these three weren't really any exception. He spun into them, knocking one aside with a sharp blow from his foot and, continuing his momentum, he kicked back at a second bandit, sending him careening into the trees. He had just ducked a punch and was striking back at the third man, when four others emerged from the forest around them. Iolaus dropped and rolled, knocking two more down, then spun up and away on one knee, avoiding the slash of a sword. Twisting up and around, he kicked the sword out of his attacker's hand, but that still left three standing and four more were coming out of the bush.

Too many. Time to make a break for it.

Darting past another sword, dropkicking a man out of his way, he tried to burst through their line, but one grabbed his vest from behind and pulled him back, while yet another grabbed his arm and pulled him around, punching him in the solar plexis. Winded briefly, he was unable to avoid having both arms grabbed while one tough guy punched his face and body. Using the leverage of the men holding him, Iolaus kicked up, knocking the man in front of him away, and continued the momentum to roll up, back, and over, breaking the hold on his arms.

There were so many of them, they were getting in each other's way, and he used the confusion to spin away, ducking out from inside the circle of attackers. Turning to race away, his boot caught on a root and he tumbled, twisting his ankle. "Damn!" he snarled, rolling with the fall to try to keep his distance from the men behind him. He felt a blistering surge of heat, and heard hideous screams, as he scrambled into the underbrush. Looking back over his shoulder, he froze in a moment of horrified disbelief. If he hadn't tripped, he'd have been caught too....

"By the gods," he whispered at the sight of his attackers on fire, the heat so intense that they were no more than shriveled wisps of charcoal in moments. Looking past the human pyres, his eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest. It was a nightmare made real. Lying perfectly still, hoping to not attract its attention, Iolaus studied the monstrosity.

Jervas' description did not do it justice. It was huge, blocking out the sky behind it. The dragon eyes whirled a ghastly red, like blood, as it scanned the forest, looking for more prey. Smoke billowed from it's nostrils, and black fangs gaped, fangs as long as Iolaus' forearm. Wings were furled up and over its back and massive griffon claws gripped the earth. A tail lashed back and forth, tipped with what looked suspiciously like a ghidra's stinger. There was enough light from the stars to reflect on its 'hide' of smooth, shiny bronze.

When it looked away, Iolaus slipped up onto his knees, and felt the painful twinge in his treacherous ankle. 'Not now,' he thought, 'I need to be able to run....' Carefully, he pulled his sword from its scabbard. It was a reflexive, defensive move even though he knew the sword would offer little protection from the beast. Holding his breath, he eased up onto his feet, staying in the shadows, still hoping to avoid its notice. Iolaus wasn't afraid of taking on virtually impossible odds, but he was no fool either. He knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he had no chance alone against this creature, and since he was not feeling suicidal, he had no intention of attacking it.

The creature's head swung back, and its eyes seemed to bore into Iolaus'. No question...he'd been spotted. His muscles tensed, anticipating the blast of flame, and, when it came, he ducked and lunged away, rolling to the side and then back up onto his feet, brandishing the sword and yelling at the creature. Who knew, maybe it was easily frightened? He should be so lucky.

The blast of fire had ignited the trees behind him, cutting off that escape route. To one side, the path fell away in a sharp decline and to the other side, the fires of the corpses of the bandits were still smoldering.

Well, if you can't go around or back, you have little choice but to go forward.

Hoping to catch the beast off guard, Iolaus leapt forward into a roll which brought him up between the monster's legs. He lashed out with the sword, only to have it clang loudly as it bounced off the thing's hide. He had to dodge quickly aside to avoid the lashing claws of the right foreleg, while keeping a wary eye out for the tail, and its stinger.

The earth trembled as the beast stamped its feet, trying to crush the irritating mortal, while Iolaus jumped and twisted, trying to keep from being flattened. Roaring, it rose back on its hind legs, its head swivelling down and around to find the man who dared oppose it. Hazardous as Iolaus' location was, it had the advantage of dissuading the beast from blowing fire which would burn itself. Instead, it reached down and snapped at him with its hideous fangs. Iolaus desperately fought back, banging the sword against the creature's nose, his mobility sorely compromised by an ankle that wouldn't hold his weight.

Dropping to roll aside off the path, heading toward the underbrush, lying flat on the ground, he struck back with the sword at the massive mouth descending toward him, but the maw just gaped ever wider. He tried to pull back, but the thing was too quick. He felt the heat....

A scream echoed over the valley below, a desperate cry of agony and desperation. The beast's jaws had closed over his arm and shoulder, biting down hard with obsidian fangs. The fiery heat of the thing's mouth, and the blinding, sickening pain as it slashed through his flesh and bone, crushing his shoulder, were insupportable.

Frenzied with the need to escape, using all of his strength, Iolaus cried out again as he wrenched himself away from the grip of those teeth, his desperate twisting roll taking him to the edge of the trail...and off. The monster lunged after him, opening its mouth to snap at him again, and fire blew out over the edge of the drop. But, Iolaus had slid out of reach, at least for the moment.

Out of control, he crashed down the slope until he slammed into a tree fifty feet away. Winded, eyes blinded by tears of pain, the breath harsh in his chest, his heart pounding in shock, he pushed himself up with his left hand and scrambled to put as much distance as he could between himself and the monster. Slipping and sliding down the slope in the dimming light of an early dusk, he tumbled down over a dense thicket of undergrowth, and crawled desperately under it's cover, trying to stop the sound of his sobbing breathing. Trying to be invisible.

He'd been surprised at how easily he'd been able to escape the grip of the monster's jaws, but knew his arm and shoulder had been badly damaged. He could feel the burn and the agony of crushed bones, but there just hadn't been any time to check it out. Now, his left hand reaching up to touch his right shoulder, he turned his head to examine his right shoulder and arm, thinking it must be paralyzed because it had proved useless during his tearing scramble down the hill...and he gagged at the reality. Flinging his head back onto the ground, eyes pressed tight closed, he gasped, _"Gods, no_...."

His right arm was gone. Where it should be was now only a blackened ruin of a gaping, crushed socket half concealed by the edge of his vest. Overpowered by nausea, Iolaus rolled to his left side, retching. Shuddering with shock, he rolled back and stared up through the twisted branches and vines above him, indistinct in the coming darkness. Clamping his jaw tight, stealing himself to the need to examine what was left of his shoulder, he reached up with his remaining hand to explore the wound. It was excrutiatingly painful, but there was no blood. The heat of the beast's mouth had cauterized and sealed the wound, even as it was being inflicted.

The worst torment of all was that he could still feel the arm, even knowing it was no longer there.

'Well, at least I won't bleed to death,' he thought with grim giddiness, listening intently to determine if the monster was coming after him. He heard the thing crashing through the forest, taking down trees as it thundered and roared into the night. He could smell the smoke from the fires started by the beast's attack. He couldn't stay here, he had to get away. Had to get help.

He was just about to leave his cover when he heard the heavy thud of feet nearby. 'Gods, I forgot about the outlaws...they're hunting me, too,' he thought, easing back into the shadows, refusing to allow himself to panic.

He waited minutes more, listening, and finally judged it was time to make a move. He eased himself out from under the brush he'd sheltered in, and tried to stand, only to find his ankle still would not bear weight. Blinking back tears of frustration, and pushing down a terrifying sense of helplessness, he leaned against a tree and considered his options. Stay hidden. Crawl. Stumble and fall. 'Can't stay, smoke and fire'll get me,' he reasoned. 'Hard to crawl with only one arm...stumble and fall it is.'

He fished around and found a broken branch to use as a cane. With its support, he dragged himself up onto his feet. Blocking out the reality of his lost arm, the horror of it, refusing to think about the future, he stumbled away from the fire, and from the sounds of the monster crashing through the forest, behind and above him. He tried to move silently, not wanting to attract the attention of either the creature or the men hunting him.

He was well below the fortress by the time he judged it dark enough to be safe in moving out of the cover of the trees. He started down the steep mountain path, easing along against the cliff wall, trying to maintain his balance, trying not to pass out. If he fell from here, he wouldn't have to worry about monsters, or outlaws, or living with one arm. Fighting off a wave of dizzyness, he leaned heavily against the rock, away from the steep drop on the other side of the path.

He might have yelled in surprise when the rock behind him simply disappeared, but his breath was cut off by the powerful hand over his mouth as he was dragged back and down into darkness.

* * *

Ares was a very unhappy God of War. He'd had a lot of plans for that warlord, Bantos and now the idiot had gone and gotten himself killed. Stupid. There was no other word for it. All he had had to do was give the creature a simple command to destroy a village, but no, he had to make himself a target. Ares didn't know exactly what Bantos had done wrong and he didn't care. A dead warlord was a useless warlord. Ares slammed a frustrated fist down onto the arm of his throne. He'd known Bantos was no Socrates, but...gods, what a moron.

Rolling his eyes, the God of War contemplated the trouble he was in. First, Hephaestus would soon figure out who had stolen his new toy. Who else would have given the monster to Bantos? If Ares knew where the thing was, and could get it back, he wouldn't care what Heph figured out but, the creature was on the loose and evidently out of control, acting on its last command, whatever that had been.

Even that wouldn't be so bad, if the results of the monster's actions hadn't led to such a massive fire in the area around Milius. Burning a village was one thing...but, couldn't Bantos have had the sense to choose a village that did not have a strong allegiance to a short tempered and unforgiving goddess? Demeter considered herself the protectress of Milius, and she wasn't happy about its destruction. But, if that had upset her, the loss of a particularly rich harvest from fields destroyed by fire had left her apoplectic. Olympus had been ringing with her furious imprecations about what she was going to do when she found out who was responsible.

Ares sighed, unwilling to accept he'd miscalculated, but unable to completely avoid the facts. He'd made his move at exactly the wrong time. Demeter had been basking in the anticipation of the huge Harvest Festival being planned in her honour. If the destruction continued, there'd be no harvest to celebrate. Damn. If he'd only hid the monster for a couple of weeks, Demeter wouldn't have given a fig about a few fires on fields of stubble.

But, facts were facts. He now had two other gods very upset, and sooner or later, they'd figure out who to blame. They'd go to Zeus and demand reparation. Ares grimaced. He really hated being reamed out by his oh so righteous father, and who knew what Zeus would demand of him? Chewing on his thumb nail, the God of War considered his options. He could deny any knowledge or involvement, but no one would believe that. Sigh. He could brazen it out...but, to what purpose? He'd still be punished by Zeus. No, he'd have to admit what he'd done to Heph and apologize. And, he'd have to ask Hephaestus' help in getting the creature back under control. Ares shuddered at that. He hated to ask anyone for anything, let alone help. He ordered, demanded, threatened...he didn't ask. But, there wasn't much choice. If the beast did much more damage, and Demeter's Festival was cancelled, there'd be Tarturus to pay.

And, if all of that wasn't enough, his goody two sandals brother was getting involved and, if Ares wasn't very careful, his misdemeanors would be compounded by the fact that he hadn't fixed them himself. There would be no living with Zeus if Hercules solved the problem before Ares made things right. Worse, if the thing killed Hercules, which Ares suspected it could, Zeus would hold him directly responsible. It would have been all right if he'd bought the damn monster and deployed it openly as an instrument of war, but, having stolen it and allowing it to be turned loose with inadequate controls, Ares could not lay off the blame on the warlord.

Gods, finally something might actually be able to rid him of the hated demigod, and Ares had to find a way to stop it. He ground his teeth in fury.

On top of it all, his sister was also profoundly irritated. 'Dite was one of the few who had any time for him...and she was livid that Heph was off chasing a creature she couldn't stand in the first place, all because Ares had stolen it.

Damn the moron, Bantos! This was all his fault. What an idiot.

Ares rubbed his jaw and growled in frustration. Sighing, he let his mind range, trying to locate Hephaestus. He already knew Heph had left his forge.

There was no other choice...he'd have to go grovelling to Hephaestus.

If Bantos wasn't already dead, Ares would have killed him.

* * *

Iolaus struggled and kicked back against whoever had grabbed him and pulled him through the cliff wall, to no avail. Whoever it was had the strength of Hercules, and that meant it had to be either another monster or a god. Didn't feel like a monster...must be a god. Ares? It would be just his luck.

He was disoriented in the inky darkness of the mountain's interior, and the shock and trauma of his injury was taking its toll. The hand over his mouth was also inadvertantly covering his nose, cutting off his air. Desperate, he clawed at the hand with his left hand, squirming and wrenching to twist away. There was a sudden sensation of dropping through nothing and then his bones were jarred by a sudden landing somewhere deep in the bowels of the mountain. His head crashed back against the chin of whoever had him, and it was like banging into solid rock. Sharp pain shot through his skull and then he slumped back against the god holding him, unconscious.

Hephaestus shook his head in regret at having inflicted more, if unintended, damage to the hunter. He'd been dismayed to have arrived too late to intervene before his creation had maimed Iolaus. Most mortals didn't matter much to him, but he'd always felt he owed Iolaus for bringing 'Dite to him, and besides, he liked the crazy little guy. He had spunk, and he was a blacksmith, so he could be considered one of Heph's mortals. The fact that he was his brother-in-law's best friend also held some relevance. Hercules was not going to be happy about this.

Dragging the unconscious man into the small forge he'd created some centuries ago beneath Mycenae, Heph managed to get Iolaus up onto a slab of stone against the wall, in one corner of the massive cavern. The chamber was garishly lit by the flames Heph had started in the old crater, and it was hot. The God of the Forge moved to let the light of the fire fall upon Iolaus, so that he could examine the crushed and burned shoulder. Wincing a little in unconscious sympathy for the man laying under his hands, he saw that there was no stump. The arm had been torn from the socket when the fangs of the beast had closed around Iolaus' shoulder. The only good news was that it was a clean injury...the instant cauterization had ensured there would be no infection. Still, the shock of an injury of this magnitude could kill.

Heph laid a hand on Iolaus' chest, feeling the strong beat of the warrior's heart. Iolaus' skin was cold, and clammy with shock, but his breathing was steady and deep. Nodding to himself, Heph decided the mortal would live. When Iolaus began to struggle back to consciousness, his arm and legs thrashing out against his unknown assailant, Heph kept up the steady and supportive pressure on his chest, calling softly, "Easy, Iolaus, I'm not going to hurt you."

Iolaus stopped struggling and his eyes blinked open. Frowning, he squinted into the dim light. That voice had been familiar. "Heph?" he murmured.

"Yes, Iolaus. I've brought you to one of my temporary forges...you're safe here. Rest now, you need to sleep," Hephaestus responded.

"'S Herc here?" Iolaus muttered, barely conscious. Gods, he didn't want Hercules to see...his mind flinched away from his mutilated shoulder.

"No, not yet, " Hephaestus responded.

"The driffion..." Iolaus struggled to sit up. " Have to stop...."

Heph pushed him back down, "Don't worry, we'll take care of the...driffion." Hephaestus smiled to himself at the whimsical name. Trust Iolaus to figure out what to call it.

Iolaus wanted to get up, wanted to argue...but, his body had other wants and needs. Against his will, he found himself drifting off again.

After that, images and impressions came and went, blurred, indistinct, confusing. The sulfurous stench in the cave made him queasy, the heat was soporific...and the pain was distracting. His right arm felt like it was on fire...and time and time again he had to rediscover it wasn't there, and feel again the horror...and despair.

At one point, he could have sworn he heard Ares and Hephaestus arguing....

* * *

Hephaestus had not been particularly surprised when Ares materialized in the forge below Mycenae. He shook his head at the God of War, "So...it was you. I surmised as much."

Ares wanted to bluster and pretend he didn't know what Heph was talking about, but it would have been a waste of time. "Well, yeah, I thought I'd do you a favour, take it out for a test run...you know, work the kinks out."

Heph snorted. "Give it up Ares, you stole it, pure and simple...and I expect reparation."

Ares rolled his eyes as he looked up at the cavern's stony ceiling. Gods, Heph hung out in the most dismal places. "Alright, fine, I admit it. But, it wasn't as if I was sneaking around...I was right there when you told Aphrodite how to turn it on. It's not my fault if you didn't see me standing there!"

"That's not the point and you know it. You took what belonged to me, in secret, and you attempted to use it for your own ends. That's against the rules, Ares. Not only that, but you've raised Demeter's ire. In the absence of knowing who to blame, she's holding me accountable. I expect you to rectify that," Hephaestus countered sternly.

"Right, fine, whatever. We'll worry about who is upset about what later. The point now is, how do you turn the damned thing off?" Ares responded, irritated at being lectured.

"Easy, you just flip the 'off' switch," Heph said, with a peculiar smile on his face.

"'Off switch'? What 'off switch'?" Ares rumbled. He suspected Hephaestus was getting way too much enjoyment out of his predictament. Off switch...it should be so easy.

"I built in an 'off' switch, but it's not in the easiest of places to reach," Heph replied, turning to gaze at the unconscious mortal. Following his gaze, Ares noticed Iolaus lying on the rock slab in the shadows.

"What's the runt doing here?" he asked, not much caring.

"The driffion tore his arm off," Heph started to explain.

"Really? Now, isn't that a shame," Ares drawled with a cold smile.

Heph looked back at the God of War, his own expression hardening. "Yes, it is a shame. Hercules will be furious...he'll come after you."

Ares shrugged, "So what? I can handle him."

"Maybe. I wouldn't want to face him head on, not when he's out for blood. You might find him more difficult to 'handle' than you imagine."

Ares just sneered and turned the subject back to the creature. "You're not the God of War...trust me, I can handle him. Now, let's get back to what's important, turning off the damned...what did you call it? Driffion?"

Hephaestus gave Ares a considered glance. "Hmm, now that it's been activated, I'll have to make special equipment to get to the switch...." Hephaestus narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "I'm not sure even a god could get to it without suffering some damage, but I have an idea."

"Good," Ares said drily, "ideas are good...so, what are you going to _do_?"

"There's a price." Heph said, looking back up at the War God.

"There's _always_ a price," Ares replied sarcastically.

"I want you to bring Demeter here...after you have admitted your full responsibility for this mess to her," Hephaestus explained in a flat, uncompromising voice.

"NO! No way! I'm not going to go grovelling to that bitch!" Ares shouted. Gods, Demeter...like he'd go near her right now.

Heph shrugged and turned away. "It's up to you. No Demeter, no 'off' switch...and the longer the driffion wreaks havoc, the more trouble you'll be in...."

Ares glared at Hephaestus, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. He raised a fist, as if he meant to threaten the God of the Forge, then lowered it, realizing he had no bargaining power in this situation. "Nnnrrrggghhhh!" Ares growled as he spun away in fury. He stood in silence for a moment, shaking his head, chewing on his lip, hands on his hips. He did not want to do this.

He did not have any choice.

"What do you want her for?" he demanded over his shoulder.

Heph looked at him with disdain. "You don't need to know that. Just get her here, before dawn."

Ares looked up at the ceiling, trying to calm down. He took a deep breath, then turned back to face Hephaestus. "What if she won't come?"

Heph shrugged. "No Demeter, no 'off' switch...it's your problem, Ares, not mine. You figure out how to get her here."

"Look, _you_ created the damn thing!" Ares blustered.

"And _you_ stole it...the responsibility is yours. Get Demeter."

Seething, Ares capitulated with ill grace, "Alright, fine. You leave me no choice. I'll be back." He disappeared in a huffy puff of smoke.

Heph turned back to the forge, and began working the bellows, building up the fire. He would need it high and hot for the work which must be done.

* * *

"What do _you_ want?" Demeter, looking up from the petitions she was considering at her desk, could scarcely conceal her loathing for the God of War, who had appeared before her without ceremony...and certainly without invitation.

Ares tightened his jaw as he twisted his head a little to the side. This was not going to be fun. His gaze taking in the pastoral accoutrements of Demeter's Temple...didn't she find all these plants suffocating?... and his nose wrinkling at the cloying sweetness of the floral scents. He finally turned his eyes back to her impatient stare. "Hephaestus asked me to bring you to him," he explained inadequately.

Demeter frowned and narrowed her eyes. "Since when did you become Hephaestus' message bearer? Has something happened to Hermes?"

"No, Hermes is just fine, so far as I know or care. Heph just said he needs to see you before dawn," Ares continued, trying to keep her focused on what he wanted as opposed to why he was there.

"You haven't answered my question," she countered, focused on what concerned her. Ares was up to something...he never did favours for anyone and she wondered what he was getting out of acting the gofer for the God of the Forge.

Ares cocked his head down and away, wondering if there was any way to avoid an explanation. There wasn't, most particularly since Heph had made it a condition that he admit what he had done. Sighing, he straightened and squared his shoulders, determined to withstand her fury like the God he was. "I took one of Hephaestus' machines and it has gotten out of control. For some reason he has not bothered to explain to me, he won't fix the problem unless I bring you to him."

Demeter's eyes blazed. "Do you mean to tell me _you_ are responsible for what happened at Milius...and for the fires which destroyed untold acres of grain and produce? Burned out orchards, and groves of olive? Gutted fields of grape? This is _your_ fault?"

Ares swallowed, "This isn't about deciding fault, it's about fixing the problem. So, let's go."

"Not so fast, Ares. One of my favourite villages has been turned to ash, and my largest festival is at risk. What are you going to do to make this right?"

Ares threw up his hands in exasperation. "What do you expect me to do? It's not like I can turn back time and restore the crops! I'm trying to get Heph to turn off the monster before it destroys anything more and ruins your precious festival."

"I expect you to restore Milius, as it was," she dictated.

"Fine, alright, I can do that," he agreed.

"And, I expect you to promise no ravaging of fields, no destroying of plants, for three months," she continued.

"What? That means no war anywhere in Greece for three months! That's exorbitant!" he protested, unwilling to concede so much. "It was one village, a few fields...that's nothing in war!"

"But, this wasn't war, Ares. This was a machine you, how did you put it, 'took', which I infer means 'stole', so you are out of bounds. You owe me reparation," she replied coldly.

Gritting his teeth, Ares seethed back, "Fine, I owe you...no ravaging of fields or destroying of plants _around Mycenae_ for three months."

She considered the conditions he put on her demand. "And you will ensure your warriors do not disrupt a single harvest festival this year anywhere in Greece. You will safeguard the celebrations in my honour."

Shaking his head, Ares replied with great restraint, "Fine...can we go now?"

"Why does he want me? And why won't he come here? Doesn't he know I'm busy?" Demeter asked, wanting to string this out for as long as possible. She didn't often have the chance to make the God of War squirm.

Jutting out his chin, narrowing his eyes, understanding what Demeter was doing, he answered in a low, clipped voice, "I don't know, does it matter? He won't turn the damned thing off until he sees you."

With a long suffering sigh, Demeter stood and walked toward him. "Fine, take me to him."

* * *

For a long time it had been almost silent...only the sound of the bellows and the roaring of the fire, and the heat was almost unbearable. Iolaus could feel the sweat pouring off his face, his chest, back and...arm. He could see Heph working at the forge, setting metal over the flames to melt. He could feel the burn, and the tearing pain of the fangs in the arm that wasn't there. He could feel invisible fingers cramp. He swallowed against the bile which rose in his throat, fighting the nausea that swept over him when he remembered, when he thought about what it meant to be a one-armed warrior. Gods, he'd promised Herc he'd be careful, that he wouldn't go up against the monster alone...he'd not expected to be attacked with no way of being able to avoid or escape injury. Blinking away the unshed tears of pain and despair that burned in his eyes, he stared up at the shadowed rock above him, watching the play of light from the flames.

How much time had passed? What else had the monster done since he'd been brought here by Heph? Had anyone else died? Gods...Herc. Where was he now? Even Hercules couldn't go up against that thing alone. Iolaus had pushed himself up on his left elbow, intending to demand that Heph take him to Herc, when he was surprised to see both Ares and Demeter materialize in the cavern. Frowning, he wondered what they were doing there.

"Well, I've brought her," Ares stated unnecessarily, letting the sound of his impatience conceal his sense of humiliation. "So, can we get on with it?"

Hephaestus ignored him. "Demeter, thank you for coming," he began, turning away from the bellows he'd been working to build the fire ever higher. "I have heard you are concerned about the ruin of the harvest by out of control driffion, and, further, that you want the war machine stopped before it does further damage." He paused, waiting for her affirmation of these points.

"Yes, Hephaestus," she replied, "wanton destruction, outside the bounds of a sanctioned war, is unacceptable. Ares owes me for the damage already done, and for whatever more occurs."

Heph nodded. Good so far as it went, but he needed her to go further. "Yes, I understand." Turning back to the forge, he thrust more iron into the molten brew. "If the creature is not stopped soon, there may be no harvest left, and that would ruin the plans for your festival a few days from now." Casually, he looked back over his shoulder at her and saw her stiffen.

"I would not be pleased if the festival fails to take place," she said coldly.

"Well, I may be able to ensure the beast is stopped before too much more damage is done, but I will need something in return," he said turning back to face her.

Demeter gazed at Hephaestus, thinking that she was about to learn why Hephaestus had sent Ares to fetch her, "Do you? What might that be?"

Heph was about to respond, but broke off when he looked past the other two gods and saw Iolaus was conscious and listening. Raising his hand to signal them to wait, he limped past them to stand beside the semi-recumbant mortal. "You shouldn't be trying to get up, Iolaus...you need to rest."

Iolaus took his eyes away from Ares and Demeter to look up at Hephaestus. His voice was raspy with strain and exhaustion, "I can't stay here...Herc's out there somewhere. He needs to be warned, about this...monster."

Hephaestus pushed a resisting Iolaus back down onto his back. "Hercules has not yet returned from my fortress. There's time."

Iolaus frowned. 'Time for what?' he thought, but, before he could ask, Heph had placed a hand lightly on his brow, and, staring deeply into his eyes, commanded, "Sleep, Iolaus, until I tell you to wake."

Iolaus felt Heph push at his mind, a strange muffling sensation, a dimming of his perceptions. He opened his mouth to protest, but his eyes rolled up into his head as he lost consciousness.

* * *

Hercules sense of foreboding increased with every step he took back toward Mycenae. Pushing himself relentlessly, he reached the area of Mycenae just after the sun had reached its zenith. Knowing that Iolaus would be expecting him, he kept an eye out for his friend, but there was no signal. Herc's anxiety tightened a notch when he spotted the plumes of smoke high up on the mountain, not far from the fortress. He was just entering the trail which led up to the cliffs and the forested heights beyond, when he heard his name called out.

Turning, his eyes scanned the countryside, looking for the source of the call. Finally, he spotted Jervas waving at him as he jogged across the fields to reach the demigod's side. Keeping one wary eye on the mountain and the fortress built into the craggy stone, wondering why Iolaus hadn't been here watching for him, worried about the evidence of fire on the mountainside, he waited impatiently for a moment, then set off to jog across the fields himself, to meet Jervas partway.

"Hercules!" the villager called, slightly breathless from having run to catch the demigod. "One of our lookouts spotted you coming over the far hills. Did you talk to Hephaestus?"

Shaking his head ruefully, Herc explained, "He wasn't there...Aphrodite confirmed that the monster was something Heph built, but someone stole it from him." Hercules sighed. "I gather he'd out looking for the creature himself." Hercules looked away from the disappointed look on Jervas' face. He could understand the anxiety of anyone who lived in these valleys or mountains...their homes, their lives were at risk as long as the creature was loose. Looking back up at the smoke on the mountainside, Hercules asked, "Have you seen or heard from Iolaus?"

When Jervas didn't answer immediately, Herc looked back at him, and took in the fearful look in his friend's eyes. "Jervas, has something happened?"

"Something? Yes," Jervas told Hercules, "that monster has burned out more fields, but so far at least, it hasn't attacked another village. But, something's been going on up on the mountain."

Hercules' anxiety kicked up another notch as he saw the confusion and worry in the other man's eyes. "Tell me what's been happening," Hercules encouraged. "Have you heard from Iolaus?" he asked again.

Jervas looked away for a moment, then shrugged a bit, as he turned back, "I don't know exactly what happened up there, to be honest...but, I'm worried. Last night, just at dusk, there were terrible screams that echoed down from the mountain, just as fires erupted just above the fortress. You can still see the smoke from here. The monster must have attacked the bandits in the forest, but we haven't seen the monster since." He paused, getting to the part that was really worrying him. "No one has seen Iolaus either."

Hercules gave Jervas a considered look, trying to keep his face impassive, his emotions under control. Screams. On the mountain. Iolaus had been heading up onto that mountain. He nodded as he bit his lip, "Alright...I'm going up there now to see what I can find out. Iolaus is probably keeping watch on the outlaws and on the monster. It's not surprising that no one has seen him down here in the valley."

Jervas nodded back, but he wondered if Hercules was explaining what Iolaus was probably doing to relieve Jervas' anxiety, or his own. "Hercules, we think all the bandits have left. At least thirty were seen riding out during the night. But, we're afraid. The monster is still up there somewhere...."

Herc gave Jervas a half smile as he patted his friend reassuringly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, my friend, we'll find a way to beat this thing...and it seems to be getting rid of the bandits for us. Go back to your family. Iolaus and I will see you when this is over."

With that, Herc raised one hand in a wave as he turned to jog up the mountain trail. He hoped he hadn't just made a promise he wouldn't be able to keep. He heard Jervas call after him, "Good luck, Hercules... and be careful!"

The smoldering fires were the places to begin to find out what was happening, or at least, what had happened. Accordingly, Hercules climbed up past the fortress, noting its air of abandonment. Giving it a thoughtful look as he passed by, he agreed that the bandits had moved on, either discouraged by the loss of their leader, or frightened off by the monster. But, if that was the case, where was Iolaus?

Hercules noted the evidence that it had rained at sometime during the evening or night...otherwise, he suspected the fires would have burned out of control instead of being smoldering relics of trees. The worst of the burn seemed to be in one area, so he headed directly toward that site.

As he got there, his nose wrinkled at the smell of the fire's remains...pungent, but overridden by the telltale scent of burned flesh. His throat tightened as he moved in closer to look for more specific evidence of what had happened here. He spotted the tracks of the monster almost immediately, and his lips pursed into a silent whistle as he knelt down to examine them. The thing must be as big as Jervas had claimed, and heavy from the look and depth of the tracks in the earth.

Because of the shelter provided by the heavy growth of trees, the rain had not washed away all evidence of what had occurred in that place. Hercules followed the tracks and in moments, his eye was caught by the pitiful piles of charcoal which lay black and twisted, the macabre remains of what had been men. Swallowing hard against the bile in his throat, Herc forced himself to examine the remains closely. At least ten men had died here and died horribly. He looked for any sign of who the men might have been, and wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not when there was no means to identify who had been killed there. Even their weapons had melted into pools of metal from the heat of the fire which had consumed their flesh.

Hercules looked up and around at the forest which surrounded him. "IOLAUS!" he called out. But, the silence was complete. There weren't even any sounds of birds, and the wind seemed to have stilled to nothing. Herc cast a last look at the charred remains at his feet, refusing to believe any of them could be all that was left of his friend. Iolaus wasn't there...he couldn't be there. Shivering a little with a dread he could not completely deny, he was turning away when his eye was caught by a dim glint from something a few feet away in the grass at the side of the trail, just before edge of where the hill dropped steeply away.

As he moved in that direction, he could see the scuff marks of a struggle. There'd been a fight of some kind there and it must have been at the same time the monster had been in the area, because some of the prints were on the monster's tracks, and some were under them. Herc's jaw tightened when he recognized the boot prints. Iolaus. He had been here, he'd fought with the monster. Herc'd gone down on one knee to examine the sign, and now he stood to continue his way toward whatever had glinted from the grass, now less than ten feet away.

Herc had taken another two steps when he stopped as if he had hit a wall. A shudder of shock, and sickness, convulsed through his body, leaving him feeling dizzy. His eyes skittered away as he tried to fight off the nausea...and failed. Doubling over, he collapsed to his knees, retching, trembling, wishing desperately that he could block out the memory of what he had just seen. Long moments later, he sank back on his haunches and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He had to check, make sure...maybe it wasn't.... Pushing himself back up onto his feet, Hercules approached the thing as tentatively as if it were a viper with the power to poison him. In a way, it was...but, this poison attacked the soul, not the body.

It was blackened, charred a bit, but still recognizable. Iolaus' sword...still in Iolaus' hand. Herc pulled his eyes away, squeezing them shut. It was the gauntlet, which had been barely singed, on the charred arm which made him certain. Pressing his fist to his mouth, he concentrated on keeping his breathing even, pushing back the sickness which again threatened to overwhelm him. Resolutely, he stood taller, telling himself that, as bad as it was, losing an arm didn't necessarily kill someone. It didn't mean Iolaus was dead.

Hercules began to search in earnest, found where he believed Iolaus had tumbled down the steep hillside, and following that trail, he found the undergrowth where Iolaus had lain to catch his breath and evade pursuit. But, after that, the trail faded out. All he could tell was that his partner had been heading down hill. During his search, Hercules found other tracks and realized the bandits had come close to his friend's trail, but there was no way to determine if they had taken him. Did it mean Iolaus had somehow gotten away? Or, did it mean the arm was all that was left...? Maybe he was lying helpless nearby, unconscious, or too weak to stand.

_"IOLAUS!"_ Hercules cried out again, but there was no response. He'd have to get help to search the forests and the side of the mountain. So long as there was even a slim chance his friend still lived, Hercules would not give in to the shattering fear that Iolaus was dead that threatened to overwhelm him.

But, there was something else he had to do first. He climbed back up to again examine the charred bodies, to determine if any were missing a right arm, but they were all intact. So, Iolaus definitely wasn't one of those who had burned here. Going back to the site of his buddy's struggle with the monster, Hercules knelt and loosened the sword from the blackened hand, his jaw tight with anger at what had been done to his friend. Unable to stomach the thought of animals tearing at the flesh of that arm, he used the sword to dig a hole at the side of the trail. The laces of the gauntlet had burned away, so it fell from the charred arm when Hercules picked up the limb, and placed it delicately into its grave. He pushed the dirt back in over the remains of his friend's right arm, took the gauntlet and, loathe to throw it away, shoved it into his belt. Then, picking up the sword, he headed back down the mountain at a rapid pace.

If Iolaus was still alive somewhere out on the mountain, there was no time to lose in gathering a search party to comb the forests for him.

* * *

The driffion soared high above, too high to be visible to mortal eyes. It had killed off many of the mortals at the mountain fortress...those who had remained had run off during the night. The beast had stalked through the corridors, searching for any who might have remained, but they were gone. Using its immense strength, the monster tore down innumerable walls inside the stone fortress, and crushed much of the interior trappings . However, it left the exterior intact...the fortress made a fine retreat for it, a place to remain invisible while it determined its next action.

Now, it was mapping the valleys, the farms and villages, deciding which ones to destroy next.

* * *

Iolaus woke to the sound of someone calling his name. He struggled to open his eyes, feeling overwhelmingly groggy and disoriented. Hephaestus was leaning over him, and when he saw the hunter was awake, he gently raised Iolaus' head and encouraged him to drink a sweet honey and wine potion.

"Umm," Iolaus grimaced, wishing Herc's herbal brews tasted half this good. "What...?"

"Something to help you recover from your confrontation with the driffion," Hephaestus assured him.

'Recover?' Iolaus thought, trying to fight off the bitterness that welled in his chest at the word. How was he supposed to 'recover' from this? How could he stand by Herc and guard his back...how could.....

Hephaestus cut into his thoughts, having surmised what the mortal was thinking from the expressions flitting across his honest face. "You need more rest, Iolaus...another few hours.... And, then, I need you to do something for me....."

The muffled feeling descended upon Iolaus again, dragging down his eyelids, sinking him into a deep sleep. As he slipped off, he thought, not without some relief, that at least his absent arm had stopped hurting.

* * *

Hercules raced down the steep, twisting trail and back to the nearby village at its foot. Jervas was still in the village square, organizing the next series of watches with a group of about eight men. He looked up when Hercules called his name, and was alarmed at the pallor of the demigod's face, and his evident distress.

"Hercules! What's happened?" he asked, then more hesitantly, fearing the worst, "Did you find Iolaus?"

The demigod shook his head. "No, I didn't find him. From the looks of the charred bodies I did find, I believe you were right about the monster attacking the bandits, and the fortress looks deserted. But, I also found evidence that Iolaus fought with the monster, and that he was badly hurt. I need you to organize all the men you can find to help me search the mountainside for him."

Frowning with concern, wondering at what 'evidence' the demigod had found that had left him seeming physically ill, Jervas was quick to accede to the request. "Of course, I can have men searching within the next hour." Pausing, unable to contain his curiosity, Jervas asked, "Hercules. How do you know Iolaus was hurt?"

Herc's eyes slid away, and he swallowed, almost convulsively. Quite evidently steeling himself to the memory, he said quietly, "I found his arm."

"Oh, gods, Hercules..." Jervas sighed, feeling sick.

At that point, there was a hail from a man racing across the square. "Hercules, thank the gods! The monster! It's been spotted returning to the fortress. Please, it must be stopped!"

Hercules looked from the desperate eyes of the man imploring his help back up to the fortress high above them. He didn't have time for this. He needed to be out looking for Iolaus.

"Hercules," Jervas had turned to him, and was speaking quietly. "I'll not be able to get men to go up the mountain if the monster is known to be so close. They'll be afraid...."

Herc turned back to Jervas, irrationally angered by this. Iolaus had gone up there alone to help these people, but they weren't prepared to go in a crowd to help him. Realizing he was being unreasonable, that they had every reason to fear the monster, he took hold of his emotions. Knowing there was nothing else he could do, he nodded. "Alright. I'll go after it so that the men know it's safe for them to search for Iolaus," he said. "But, Jervas, he's badly hurt...you need to send them as quickly as possible...or it may be too late."

It might already be 'too late', but he wouldn't accept that thought.

"Alright, Hercules, we'll head up there as quickly as we can get organized," Jervas committed. Iolaus had been up there on their behalf. Jervas, for one, was not prepared to turn his back on the hero, especially when he was so badly hurt.

Nodding, grateful, Hercules turned away, and began the trek back up to the fortress.

* * *

When he woke again, the light in the cavern was very dim, the fire in the forge having burned down to embers, and it wasn't quite so hot.

"Welcome back, Iolaus," Hephaestus greeted him with a enigmatic smile. "How do you feel?"

Iolaus thought about it. How did he feel? Not bad...actually, pretty good. Better than any time since he'd climbed the mountain, what two days ago? Three? "Okay," he responded aloud. "A lot better."

Heph nodded and held out an arm to help Iolaus sit up. Instinctively, Iolaus responded by reaching out with his right hand, and gaped when he saw a metal hand move up to catch Heph's grip. He froze, staring. It was unbelievable, impossible. What? His eyes sought Heph's, his confusion and surprise very evident.

The God grinned this time. "Like it? I thought the least I could do was give you an arm to replace the one you lost."

Iolaus levered up on his left elbow, and held up his right hand. He examined the bronze hand with amazement, and then his eyes scanned along the length of his new arm. It was amazing. The colour and texture seemed very much like that of the panthers Heph built to guard his domain, all shimmering smooth like molten gold, but the joints appeared reinforced, almost like a suit of light, elegant armour. Iolaus' gaze finally reached his shoulder, and he discovered Heph had built a kind of metal cap that fit over the joint, reaching almost to his neck, and down around under his arm to link with the back part of the shoulder shield. The whole limb was a work of art, light and flexible, strong and, in its way, beautiful.

"By the Gods, Heph...I can't believe it!" Iolaus whispered in awe. He looked up at the God of the Forge, his eyes glowing again with life and hope...and gratitude. "Thanks," he murmured, overwhelmed.

Heph pulled him up to a sitting position, and Iolaus flexed the arm, wriggled the fingers, made a fist. "It works!" he smiled in delight.

"Of course it works," Heph huffed, "I made it!"

"Ah, yeah...right...it's just that...well, it's amazing!" Iolaus couldn't stop grinning. It might not be as good as his real arm, but it was a whole lot better than no arm at all. "How long will it last?"

"As long as you need it," Heph answered a bit cryptically. Iolaus shrugged and slipped off the stone slab he'd been lying upon to stand next to Heph.

"Anything I need to know to take care of it? Like, do I need to oil the joints on a regular basis?" Iolaus quipped. Heph looked at him closely, not really buying the jovial routine. Iolaus caught the look, and bowed his head. "I couldn't imagine life without my arm, Heph. This...well, it's not the same, but, well, I can stay with Herc, watch his back. Thanks...really.... Thanks a lot."

Hephaestus nodded and touched the arm lightly. Iolaus was surprised he could feel the touch. It felt cool, a little remote, not like the touch on his real arm, but he could feel! When his eyes came up, Heph said, "This arm is made of the same material as I used to make the driffion. It is unbreakable by any mortal force. It also possesses the strength of more than a hundred men. You can tear into or pulverize any natural material on earth. This arm has more strength than Hercules."

Iolaus gaped at him. "Wow! My arm is stronger than Hercules? Wow!" A sudden irrepressible grin illuminated his face. "Wait'll Herc gets a load of this! Now I can pick him up!" Iolaus giggled at the very thought.

Heph smiled quietly. "I'm glad you like it. Now, we need to talk. There's something you need to do for me."

"Sure, anything...well, almost anything. What?" Iolaus stammered, eager to repay the favour of having been given an arm, but still a little wary of what the god might ask of him.

"I need you to turn off the driffion," Hephaestus said.

"Oh," Iolaus swallowed, remembering the creature which had barbecued the outlaws and bit through his arm as if it had been no more than a brittle stick. His arm might withstand the monster, but the rest of him was not invincible. "How?"

"I built in an 'off' switch...I want you to turn it 'off'," Hephaestus explained.

"O-kay...where's the switch?" Iolaus asked, wondering what the catch was. If there was an off switch why didn't Heph just turn it off himself?

"This creature can bite through anything except itself. Nothing, not even a god, could withstand it," Heph said, not exactly answering the question...except, in a way he had.

Iolaus considered what Heph had just told him, his eyes narrowed as he studied the god. 'Bite through anything except itself'. And his arm was made of the same stuff. Iolaus took a deep breath. "So, the switch is where? In its mouth?"

Heph looked away. "Not exactly. The switch is actually at the back of the driffion's throat."

Iolaus' head came up, his eyes rolled and his mouth opened in amazement. "The back of its throat? Could you have put it any place less accessible?" Iolaus replied, his voice a bit high.

Hephaestus shrugged diffidently. "Well, you don't want an off switch on a war machine that anyone can reach easily whenever they want. What good would that be?"

"Yeah, right.... Heph, don't do this again, okay?" Iolaus said, in a tone that clearly said 'are you crazy?'

Heph's responding gaze suggested he didn't find Iolaus' tone amusing. "All you have to do is reach in, straight to the back of its throat, and you'll feel the lever. Push it down. Alright?"

"Sure, that's after I avoid getting quick broiled or having my head bitten off while I'm trying to convince it to let me tickle its tonsils. Piece of cake." Iolaus couldn't quite get all the sarcasm out of his voice.

"It'd better be a 'piece of cake' as you put it. If you can't stop it with that arm, I'm not sure anyone can, even me. It will no longer listen to commands to deactivate itself. It's locked in a self preservation mode. No one, no god, certainly no mortal, not even Hercules, would stand a chance of getting to the off switch."

Hercules. Gods. Iolaus paled. How long had he been out? Where was Herc? Had he already tried to best the monster? "Heph...Herc's alright, isn't he?"

Hephaestus nodded. "So far as I know. He got back an hour ago." The God of the Forge paused a moment, then continued. "He found your arm."

Iolaus winced and turned away. "Oh gods," he whispered.

"Hercules has gone to muster help from the villages to search for you...or your body. He doesn't know you're here...no other mortal knows about this forge, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Iolaus shrugged. Who knew about this forge was of little concern to him. He needed to get to the monster before it got to Hercules. "Where's the monster?"

Heph shook his head. "I'm not sure, but it must be somewhere close. I suspect it's evaluating its next target."

Iolaus blew out his cheeks. "Great, okay. How do I get out of here?"

Heph showed Iolaus one of the hidden exits near the base of the mountain, not all that far from one of the villages. Just as they reached the portal, Heph snapped his fingers, and a wineskin appeared in his hand. Iolaus lifted one brow as he looked from it to the God of the Forge.

"This is more of the potion I gave to last night. I don't think the arm will give you any trouble, but I think you should take this in case you need it."

Iolaus grinned as he took the wineskin and slung it over his arm. He remembered how great the potion had tasted and wasn't adverse to trying it again. He planned to have Herc try it too, with a view to suggesting that Hercules try to make his own remedies taste so good.

"Hercules is in the village," Hephaestus told him, pointing in the direction of the settlement.

Iolaus nodded and set out to find his friend, to make sure he was alright and that he understood he couldn't take on this monster. This time, it was up to Iolaus.

* * *

When Iolaus got to the village, he was relieved to find Jervas in the village square. Jogging across the square, Iolaus called out, "Hey, Jervas...have you seen Hercules?"

Jervas turned, and went white, looking like he'd seen a ghost. "Iolaus?" he asked, his voice a tight squeek.

Iolaus frowned at the reaction, "Yeah...why? What's wrong?" But, he had his answer when Jervas seemed unable to look away from his bronze arm. "Oh...you heard about...."

Jervas was finally able to raise his eyes. "Hercules found.... He came here to get volunteers to go out looking for you. I was just getting some men organized, when you.... Iolaus, when I heard what had happened to you, I thought for sure you were dead...."

Iolaus grinned, "You know better than to write me off that fast! I'm not that easy to kill." Iolaus' eyes had continued to scan the square as he spoke and now he looked back at Jervas. "So, where's Herc?"

Jervas jerked his head toward the fortress high above them on the mountain. "One of our lookouts spotted the monster heading into the fortress about an hour ago. Hercules went after it, to keep it busy so that we could go ahead and look for you."

Concern had flashed into Iolaus' eyes as Jervas spoke and he'd turned to look up the mountain, his eyes seeking his friend's form. "How long ago did he leave?" he asked.

"Just a few moments...not more than half a handspan...."

"Right," Iolaus interjected. He gave Jervas a quick look, "I'm going after him...don't let anyone else up on that mountain!" and then he was running out of the village back toward the path up to the fortress. He had to catch Hercules before.... He had to catch him!

* * *

Hercules was striding at a brisk pace along the cliff path towards the fortress. He didn't know if Iolaus was alive or dead, but he did know that this beast had maimed his friend. Herc had to push the thought away. It only led to a endless circle of anxiety, of horror at what had happened to his best friend, of worry about where Iolaus was and if he was alive, of despair at what his partner had had to suffer. Those thoughts couldn't help Iolaus and would only distract Hercules, making him vulnerable to an attack. So, he pushed them aside, grimly determined that, whatever else happened, he would make sure the creature never hurt anyone else ever again.

When he reached the fortress, he found the massive gate at the portal busted in, smashed into splinters. Cautiously, he moved through the portal, entering the main hall. The furnishings had been trashed, and there was a large hole, about ten feet high and several feet wide, in the far wall. Hercules continued to investigate the deserted fortress, moving from chamber to chamber, along corridors, up and around steep stone stairwells. Everywhere he went, it was the same...splintered, broken up, torn furnishings, gaping holes in walls, floors or ceilings...but, no mechanical monster.

Once he'd searched the whole edifice, he headed back into the courtyard of the fortress, wondering whether to head back down to the village to make sure the search teams were organized, or to head back up the mountain to begin his own search, both for his friend, and for the monster who had so badly hurt him. He'd passed out of the courtyard, and under the Lions' Gate, back onto the steep path, when suddenly a huge shadow blocked out the sun. Instinctively, Hercules leapt to the side, dodging the threat, rolling for the cover of the forest and his quick reaction saved his life. A blast of fire shot through the air where he had been. The driffion flapped its wings, soaring back up into the sky, then wheeled back to dive again at the large mortal he'd seen enter its refuge. However, from the air it couldn't see where its target had gone, so it banked, glided to the ground and furled its wings as it began to stalk toward the forest.

Hercules had been studying the beast from the cover of the trees. Gods, it was massive...and mean. It was a killer, no doubt about it...a machine built for death. Herc knew he had to stop the thing before others died. Looking at it, though, he was reminded of 'Dite's warning, and suspected it was warranted. The creature looked like it could destroy anything which got in its way...including a demigod who wasn't sure if he was immortal or not. Well, today, he might find out.

Hercules looked at the trees around him, and decided on his weapon of choice. He grabbed a sturdy young tree, with a straight trunk about ten feet long, and ripped it from the earth. While the monster was banking and gliding to the ground, he stripped the excess branches from the tree, turning it into a stout pole. And when the creature started to stalk toward the forest, Hercules stood away from the trees, moving into the cleared space, to begin stalking toward the monster.

There was fire in his eyes. Irrational as he knew it to be, he hated this abomination for what it had done to Iolaus, and he was going to destroy it, or die trying.

* * *

Iolaus had seen and heard the blast of fire as the monster dove down toward the fortress' gate. He couldn't see Hercules, but he had no doubt of who was the target. He poured on the speed, racing up the twisted path, desperate to reach his friend before it was too late. Knowing Herc, he knew the demigod would never run. Hercules suffered the illusion of believing he was invincible...and too many others encouraged him in this belief. But, Iolaus knew Herc could be hurt...and he was terrified that his friend could be killed.

In moments, he had rounded the last curve in the path, and could see the battle playing out before the Lion's Gate. Hercules, big as he was, seemed dwarfed by the size of the mechanical monster. He'd charged in, a reaction the creature had not been expecting, and had swung the pole up and back, bringing it down hard on the monster's shoulder...only to have it bounce off, the pole reverberating so badly from the blow that Herc could barely hang onto it.

Enraged, the creature rose up on its rear, lionlike legs, thrashing and lashing out with its griffon claws. Hercules easily dodged the sharp talons, but was unable to keep the creature from getting a grip on the pole with its jaw. The pole snapped sharply, as if it was mere kindling, leaving Herc holding a much shortened, and obviously useless, chunk of tree trunk. He'd tossed it aside, and was standing, legs wide, arms out, hands slightly palm up toward the beast, waiting for the next attack, preparing to jump up and grab the monster by the neck...hoping he could either break it as easily as the creature had broken his pole or that he could rip off its head. One part of his mind was screaming that retreat is sometimes the better part of valour, but he wasn't about to run. This thing needed to be stopped. There had to be a way. There was always a way.

He was unaware of Iolaus approaching from the side, and Iolaus did not want to call out and break his friend's concentration. Herc might have to move and move fast before Iolaus could get to him. But, the beast had spotted the movement out of the corner of its whirling crimson eye. It turned its almost delicate dragon face towards the new intruder and blew out fire. But, Iolaus had been ready for it, and was already in motion, leaping up and lunging forward, feet first, to put the power of his speed and full weight into his effort to drive Herc away and back.

Hercules had just turned to see what had attracted the creature's ire, when Iolaus' feet hit him full force in the chest, driving him back toward the forest...the momentum carrying him to the edge of the trees. Meanwhile, Iolaus was up and dancing lightly on his feet, grateful his ankle was giving no further trouble, watching the creature closely.

"C'mon," he jeered. "You tried to get me before, remember? Well, you missed! What do you think of that, huh? Wanna try again?"

Herc scrambled onto his feet, shouting, "Iolaus! What do you think you're doing?" Everything was happening too fast. He wanted to be relieved Iolaus was alright, wanted to ask about the strange bronze arm, but was too afraid of what Iolaus was doing, making himself a target. He was going to get himself killed! Herc started to run toward his friend.

Iolaus spared Herc a quick glance and hastily raised his left arm, waving him back. "Herc, stay back! This thing'll kill you! You don't stand a chance!"

"And you do?" growled Hercules, continuing to move forward, his eyes on the beast, who was watching both of them, calculating its options, deciding upon its strategy to destroy them both.

"Yeah, I know how to turn it off!" Iolaus replied with a wild grin and an unholy light in his eyes.

"What?" Hercules demanded, not certain he understood.

"I'll explain later...just...get out of the way, okay? I can't deal with this thing and protect you too," Iolaus' voice was pitched somewhere between pleading request and command.

But, there was no way Hercules was going to abandon his partner to face the mechanical monster alone. He edged over, thinking he might attract the creature's attention, allowing Iolaus to do whatever he needed to do. Iolaus could see Herc moving out of the corner of his eye and realized his buddy was trying to act as a decoy to distract the monster. His heart sank at the danger Herc was putting himself into.

The monster spun, gods it was quick, and lashed out with its tail, knocking Hercules to the ground, then it was raising a leg to crush the demigod, only Iolaus was now also on the move. He got between his friend and the descending leg, and raised his right arm, bracing his legs to give himself balance. Iolaus took the full weight of the leg on his outstretched right hand, then flexing his elbow slightly, he pushed back, hard, sending the monster staggering back, almost falling as it stumbled to regain its .

"What the...?" Herc exclaimed.

"No time to explain...very strong arm...you gotta get outta here, Herc, please!" Iolaus used his right arm to effortlessly haul Hercules to his feet and to push him, gently toward the forest. But, gentle is a relative term, and Iolaus had not had time to test his strength, let alone master its use...and Hercules went flying into the forest, hitting a tree with some force. Iolaus winced, "Oops! Uh...sorry!" But, then, he glanced at the arm and grinned, thinking, "Cool!"

The driffion had been startled by the strength of the small being to withstand its strength, and alarmed by being shoved back. It studied the two mortals, but most of all the one with the arm which glinted in the sun. There was danger here. Its self-preservation mode kicking into action, the mechanical monster flexed its wings and launched itself into the air. It needed to assess this new situation and determine how to best overcome the threat. Until then, it would stay away from the creature which seemed to have the power to resist it, and quite possibly hurt it.

Startled, the two heroes watched the creature rise swiftly into the air and soar up and away over the top of the mountain.

"What do you know?" murmured Iolaus, "I scared it!"

"I'm not surprised," Hercules responded, coming to stand beside his friend and reach out toward the new arm. He looked at Iolaus, his brow arched.

Iolaus nodded, "Sure, go ahead and touch it. Heph made it for me out of the same stuff he used to make the monster. He says it has the strength of one hundred men and can pulverize any material on earth."

"Really? The way you threw me into the forest was sure something, let alone how you lifted and shoved aside the monster," Hercules responded thoughtfully as he delicately ran a finger up the side of Iolaus' arm. He noted that Iolaus twitched a bit at his touch and looked up into Iolaus' face.

"It feels touch, not like a normal arm. Kinda cool, and not quite there, as if something is between your hand and where the sensors are, but at least it's not just a lump of metal," Iolaus explained in response to the question he'd seen in Herc' eyes.

A momentary, almost awkward silence fell between them. "It's better than nothing," Iolaus said finally, then changed the subject. "C'mon, we need to figure out how to trap that thing so that I can turn it off."

Hercules shook his head, "Turn it off? You said something like that earlier. How can you turn it off?"

With a wry grin that said 'you won't believe this', Iolaus explained, "Heph built in a switch to shut down the creature. The only problem is that it's in the back of the damned thing's throat."

The look on Herc's face was priceless, a kind of combination of 'you gotta be kidding!', 'Heph, what?', and 'well, at least it can be stopped'. His gaze swung back to Iolaus' new arm, and Iolaus confirmed, "Yeah, that's really why he had to give me this. He said no one, not a god, not even you, can withstand the creature, only something that's made of the same indestructible stuff will resist penetration by its teeth long enough to get to the switch."

"Huh," Herc responded thoughtfully. The arm might resist the teeth, but the rest of Iolaus wasn't indestructible, and the damned thing had wicked claws and a poisonous stinger. The new arm would help, but it didn't balance out all of the danger. It wasn't going to be easy to turn the damned thing off.

The sun was sinking as the afternoon waned, and early shadows were darkening the side of the mountain. Herc looked around, considered the fortress then discarded the idea of staying within its precincts, and said, "Let's find a place to camp and decide on our next move."

Iolaus agreed with a nod, and they set off up the mountain, disappearing into the forest.

* * *

"So, that's it," Iolaus completed his story of what had happened in Heph's forge somewhere in the bowels of the mountain, and the little bit he'd been able to overhear in his shocked state. "It was a regular convention of gods down there. Ares stole the monster, Heph needed Demeter for something to do with it and the next thing I knew, I had a new arm."

Hercules noticed that Iolaus had been absentmindedly rubbing the arm while he spoke. "How does it feel, Iolaus?" he asked softly.

His partner looked across the fire at him, then away. "Like a lump of metal. But, it works and I guess that's the main thing." He paused a moment, then continued in a low voice, "It's weird, Herc, but sometimes I can still feel my arm, my real arm, even though it's no longer there."

"I found it...your arm...." Herc said softly.

"I know...Heph told me. Herc...I'm sorry...that had to be ... really gross," Iolaus said, making a face.

Hercules jerked his eyes back to Iolaus' and grinned at the choice of words and the expression on his partner's face, as Iolaus had hoped he'd do. "'Gross' does not begin to describe it, my friend," he replied.

Hercules gazed at Iolaus for several moments, wondering what was going on in his buddy's head...and his heart. It had to have been horrific, that encounter with the monster, losing his arm. The fact that Iolaus had just tried to deal with it with his typical humour didn't mean he wasn't hurting.

Iolaus had told him a lot about what had happened, but he'd skirted over those moments, and Hercules was concerned that his buddy was once again pushing the bad stuff down and away, burying it somewhere in his soul. The demigod knew his friend better than he knew himself, and he knew Iolaus would need to talk about this, or it would haunt him. Looking into the fire, Herc reflected that it was something Iolaus might never get over. His voice, when he talked about the new arm was either enthusiastic about its capabilities, as if it was a new weapon, or flat, when he reflected it was better than nothing. He needed to accept his new appendage, not be uncomfortable with it, or somehow ashamed of it.

"When I found it, your arm, on the mountain, I was afraid the beast had killed you," Hercules began. "I don't understand, even now, how you managed to survive the injury."

Iolaus gave a raspy, humourless chuckle. "It's a considerate monster, Herc. It deals you a mortal injury, but cauterizes as it goes, so that you'll live with what it's done to you."

"I'm glad," Herc said quietly, watching Iolaus, not surprised to see his friend wheel on him.

"What!" Iolaus exclaimed.

"Not about the arm, you know that. But, that you're alive. That it didn't kill you."

"Oh, yeah, right," Iolaus responded, his voice dry. He reached for the wineskin Heph had given him, popping the cork and taking a long swallow. "You gotta try this stuff, Herc," he said, handing the 'skin across to his friend.

Hercules took it from him. "What is it?"

Shrugging, Iolaus replied, "Heph gave it to me. It helps with the pain, but I think it's just honeyed wine with some herbs in it. Go ahead, it won't hurt you, and I don't need it. The arm's fine."

Hercules took an experimental swallow, then another, before passing it back across the fire. Iolaus had just done it again, distanced himself from his new arm, calling it 'the arm' instead of 'my arm'. "You're right, that is good," Herc said with a half smile. He suspected Heph had intended the wine for more than physical pain. It wouldn't hurt them to make use of the tonic.

"Sure is," Iolaus agreed, taking another swallow, then passing the 'skin back to Herc. If he could get Hercules mellow, maybe he could avoid the conversation he could see Hercules wanted to have. Iolaus knew Herc thought he needed to talk about what had happened before he could 'let it go'. But, he didn't want to talk about it. He'd never be able to 'let it go'. His arm was gone, and he had this metal monstrosity in its place. "Why can't the medicines you make me drink taste this good?"

Chuckling, Hercules accepted the wineskin and took another swallow, "Because I'm not a god," he said with a grin.

They passed the skin back and forth a few more times, and then Hercules decided it was time to talk. "Iolaus, the only thing your new arm changes about who you are is that it gives you more options."

"Options?" Iolaus repeated, thinking 'here it comes' and deciding he'd just keep Hercules talking and then he wouldn't have to talk.

"Yeah, like amazing strength," Hercules said with a grin. "You've always been unique, and this only makes you even more so!"

"Unique?" Iolaus repeated, then before he could even stop himself, he blurted, "It makes me a freak!" 'Damn the wine,' he thought, wanting to bite off his tongue.

"You are not a freak," Hercules replied sternly, steel in his voice. "Don't ever say that."

Iolaus looked away impatiently. It had been an unfortunate choice of words. For years, when he'd been a kid, Herc had thought of himself as a 'freak' and it had taken Iolaus and Alcmene a long time to get him past that. The word was a kind of trigger for Hercules.

Sighing, Iolaus looked back at his friend. "You know what I mean, Herc. Wherever I go, people are going to gape at me. You should have seen Jervas' face this afternoon."

"So what?" challenged Hercules.

"So what? So I guess I'll have the perfect icebreaker, always something to talk about because the questions about what it is, why I've got it, what happened to my real arm will never end. Everywhere I go, people will look at me and see this!" he said, holding up the arm and shaking it. "And everytime I have to talk about it, I'll have to remember one more time that moment when I realized my arm was gone...and what that felt like," he said in a softer, lost voice.

"I'm sorry, Iolaus. That had to have been terrible, worse than terrible. But, your arm is gone. If you didn't have the metal arm, people would still ask what happened to you. But, the real point is, with or without an arm, or a metal arm, you are still you. I wish you hadn't've had to suffer like that, but I'm just so damned glad you're alive," Herc stopped, his voice cracking.

Iolaus looked across the fire at his best friend, and heard the fear Hercules had felt. And it made him think about what might have been. Herc was right, with or without an arm, or the new metal arm, it was better than the alternative. It was better than being dead. And, the new arm did give him the chance to continue fighting at Herc's side. And, that was a whole lot better than nothing. Worth the price of a few awkward questions, some stares and the odd painful memory.

Iolaus took another swig of the honeyed wine, then said, "Don't you ever get tired of being right?"

Hercules looked up, and was immensely relieved to see the grin on his buddy's face, and the sparkle back in his eyes. "No, not really. I like being right all the time," he replied with a straight face. But, when Iolaus snorted, he couldn't resist a grin of his own. Then, he said quietly, "It'll be alright, Iolaus."

"Yeah," his friend sighed, "it'll just take some getting used to." Looking up, with devilment in his eyes, he said, "You know, there's something I've wanted to do with this new and improved right arm ever since I got it."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Herc responded with an indulgent grin.

"Beat you at arm wrestling!" Iolaus responded, setting aside the wineskin.

"Not a chance!" Hercules challenged back.

"Wanna bet?" Iolaus teased, shifting to clear a space on the ground.

"Why not?" said Hercules, and then they were both flat on their stomachs, head to head, right elbows on the ground, right hands clasped.

Iolaus kept his eyes on Herc's face, watching with amusement the expressions that played, one after another, as Herc tried, really tried, to move Iolaus' arm one iota. Without success. The veins and sinews on the demigod's right arm started to bulge, his shoulders tensed as he brought the strength of his body into play, his face reddened with effort. He couldn't move Iolaus' arm. Finally, his eyes left the clasped hands, to look into Iolaus', and he saw the laughter there.

Iolaus giggled as he moved Herc's arm down until the back of his hand was flat on the earth. It hadn't even been all that hard. He'd felt Herc's strength. For one of the few times in his life, he suspected he'd felt the full force of it, and it left him in awe. But, it hadn't been enough to overcome the strength in his new arm. He let Herc's hand go, and rolled onto his back, laughing. "I did it!" he crowed. "I won!"

And Hercules laughed with him. 'I did it', not 'the arm did it'. Iolaus would be fine.

* * *

The next morning, feeling no worse for wear for having emptied the wineskin, which was a kind of miracle all of its own, they considered how to defeat the beast.

"The trick is going to be to catch it and hold it in one place long enough for you to turn it off," Herc said, thinking, and to incapacite the damned thing so it can't hurt you more than it already has.

"Yeah, I agree. But, Heph said nothing can stop it, so I'm not sure there is a way to tie it down," Iolaus responded.

Hercules thought about it. "Well, we don't have to stop it, or keep it tied for long, just long enough for you to do your thing. I saw some lengths of chain back in the fortress when I scouted through it yesterday. I could lasso the thing, and pull it out of the air, immobilize it on the ground."

Iolaus shrugged. He didn't have any better ideas. "Okay, big guy, let's go get the chains," he said standing and kicking out the fire. The sooner this was done, the better. "But, once it's on the ground, you have to get out of its way. I can do this, Herc, and I don't want you getting hurt while I'm doing it. Okay?"

Herc nodded, not wanting to fight about it. But, if Iolaus thought Hercules was going to just walk away and watch, well, it wasn't going to happen.

They went back to the fortress, and Hercules found the chains he'd remembered in a ground floor store room. They weren't sure how they were going to trap the beast. They'd neglected to remember that it could reason, and that it would act to protect itself. It was hunting them just as much as they were hunting it.

They had just left the fortress compound, when a shadow swooped over them. Hercules reacted instantly, wheeling and shaking out the chain as his eyes scanned the sky. It had circled, having spotted them, and was swooping in with the intention of flaming them. However, just as it opened its mouth, the loop of chain Herc had thrown into the air dropped over its head, and he hauled with all of his strength, aided in that by Iolaus' arm, to pull it swifly to earth.

The unexpected attack had caught the monster off balance, and it felt itself plummet. Desperately, it used its wings to break the fall, but while it had the capacity to rip through rock and steel, its wings had not been designed to resist the kind of power which was dragging it earthward.

Hercules hastily tied off the chain around the bottom of a large stone boulder at the side of the trail. The monster, having pegged Hercules as the one holding it down, turned to lash out with its claws. Iolaus anticipating the attack, lunged to shove Hercules out of the way while simultaneously knocking the griffon like leg away with his right arm.

Herc went sprawling in the dust and rolled as Iolaus was turning back to face the creature. His eyes wide with horror, Hercules saw the tail lashing toward Iolaus, stinger fully extended.

"IOLAUS! BEHIND YOU!" Hercules shouted, and Iolaus began to move, but it was too late. The tail circled behind him, the stinger burying itself in his back, and he yelled out at the unexpected pain, as he twisted away. Lashing out with his right arm, he bashed the tail hard, and the monster pulled it back, only to swing its head around, mouth agape, determined to chew this irritating mortal into mush.

Iolaus had spun around and was down on one knee, watching the monster come at him, a crazy grin on his lips. This was it! As soon as the mouth was close enough, he jammed his right arm in as far as it would go. Startled, the monster clamped down, hard, but its teeth couldn't penetrate the arm, and slid by it, trapping the appendage in its molten mouth.

"IOLAUS!" Hercules screamed, bounding to his feet, and racing toward his friend, terrifed the thing would rip his buddy apart.

The monster was whipping its head up and back, taking Iolaus with it, high into the air, shaking him like a lion shakes its prey, but Iolaus just turned his head away from the heat radiating from the beast's mouth, as he shoved his arm deeper into the beast's mouth. One mighty leg came down on the chain holding it to the ground, claws slicing through the metal like a knife through butter. Free, it launched itself into the sky.

Hercules launched himself up into the air and grabbed the hind leg of the creature as it lifted from the earth, determined to pull it back down. Feeling the assault, the beast lashed out with its tail, to pound Hercules and knock him off. The demigod saw the tail coming and ducked but its stinger caught on his upper arm and cut deep, the sudden numbing pain causing Hercules to loosen his grip. The monster kicked and he flew off, landing on the ground twenty feet below with a thump.

Iolaus, unaware of what Hercules was doing, felt waves of pain in his arm, both from the pressure of the monster's teeth and jaw, and from the heat of its mouth. Gods, surely metal shouldn't be able to hurt this much. However, he refocused his attention quickly, ignoring the discomfort of being shaken about like a rag doll, his metallic fingers groped and clawed along the back of the creature's throat until finally he found a lever sticking out.

Hercules had scrambled to his feet, furious at having been shaken off, and watched with frustrated anxiety as the beast flew higher, shaking its head, trying to get rid of Iolaus. He was helpless to do anything but watch the drama above play itself out.

Iolaus grabbed and pulled the lever down with all the strength he had in that hand...and everything stopped. The monster's mouth gaped open just enough for his arm to loosen from its grip and he was plummeting toward the earth, along with the beast when, its wings no longer beating, it lost the ability to fly. Iolaus kicked out wildly, pushing against the monster's hide to give himself the leverage to push himself away into the air, so he'd not fall onto the creature, and it wouldn't fall on him.

Admittedly, Iolaus wasn't thinking all that clearly...he just knew he wanted, needed, to get away from the much loathed thing.

Hercules, his heart clenched in horror, as about a hundred feet up, the creature seemed to freeze in place, and then was dropping like a very large boulder toward the earth... and Iolaus was dropping with it.

But, Iolaus' instinctive reaction to push himself away from the creature saved both of them. Herc would have stood in place, to try to catch his friend, and would most certainly have been crushed by the falling creature. He had to race to the side, only about ten or twelve feet, but enough to avoid being hit by the beast, and arms out, he reached to pull his friend from the sky.

The earth shook when the beast crashed into it, just as Iolaus dropped heavily into Hercules' arms, and the momentum brought Herc to his knees, but he held on, and kept Iolaus from being crushed by his fall. Herc convulsively held his friend tight, pulling him close, trembling still with the terror of what he'd just seen... what he'd feared...that the thing would kill his friend.

"It's okay, Herc," Iolaus called out, hugging his friend back, "I'm alright!"

Taking a breath, Hercules let Iolaus push himself back a little, enough to breathe. One arm supporting his friend, Herc touched the metallic arm diffidently, noticing it was badly mauled, and cracked. Iolaus followed his gaze, wincing even at Herc's light touch. Gods, it was sensitive!

Relief disappeared and Herc's with sharp fear as he remembered the moments of the fight.

"What?" demanded Iolaus, worried by the look in Herc's eyes. He looked up and back, wondering if a new threat had manifested in the clearing. But, Hercules was pulling him forward, against him, while he fumbled at Iolaus' vest, looking over Iolaus' shoulder. "What are you doing?" Iolaus demanded.

"It stung you! I saw it," Hercules gasped, then felt as if the world had stopped. He had found the wound, could see blood oozing from it down Iolaus' back. "Gods, Iolaus," he whispered, gripping his friend's shoulder, easing him back so he could look into Iolaus' eyes, "it's poisoned...there's no antidote...."

Iolaus' eyes widened...in the heat of the battle, he'd forgotten the sting. His eyes unfocused, looking into the air past Herc's face, as he tried to sense any symptoms, but then he looked back at Hercules, "I...don't feel anything...I feel fine, Herc...."

Hercules brushed a hand over Iolaus' forehead, checking for fever, studied his friend's eyes, which were clear, and his colouring, which was natural. Iolaus was right...he seemed fine. "Maybe it doesn't act fast," he said softly, still feeling a sick fear in his heart.

Iolaus pushed himself out of Herc's hold and, as he was doing so, he noticed the cut on Hercules' arm. "When did this happen?" he asked, as he scrambled to his feet, not yet wanting to think about the poison or what it meant.

Hercules looked down at the long gash. "Oh. Yeah," he muttered.

"Oh, yeah?" repeated Iolaus, "Oh yeah, what? Did it happen when I pushed you out of the way of the tail?"

"No," Hercules looked up, then pushed himself to his feet. "It was after, when I jumped up to grab one of its feet, to try to pull it back down when it was flying away. It lashed at me with its tail...."

Iolaus looked up at Hercules, realizing what his friend was telling him, feeling sick. "Gods, Herc...don't tell me the stinger did that!"

Hercules ripped off a piece of his shirt to bind the wound on his arm. "'Fraid so," he said, trying to keep his tone matter of fact. Iolaus just stared at him for a moment, then hastened to help, taking the material from Hercules' hand and wrapping the arm, tying off the crude bandage, his hands shaking.

"Then, we both...." Iolaus began, stunned. Gods, not Hercules. This couldn't happen to him.

Herc saw the anguish on Iolaus' face, understanding it was for him, and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's like we always said, right, back to back?"

Iolaus looked up, tears in his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But, gods, Herc, I don't want you to...."

Hercules pulled Iolaus into a tight hug, and his buddy hugged him right back. They'd faced danger for more years than either of them could remember at that moment. They'd confronted death, and beaten it, time after time. They'd fought with skill, determination and daring, with courage, and with no thought to the personal dangers they had faced, only ever concerned about the other. They'd always won.

But, not this time.

Hercules gazed over Iolaus' shoulder at the wreck of the beast. They might have bested Heph's 'indestructible' monster, but it had taken its price before it lost. They'd set out to stop a warlord and found a nightmare in his place.

But, Herc found he felt strangely calm. Neither of them could have beared to lose the other.

"It's alright, Iolaus," he said quietly. "This is just one more thing we'll do together. We'll, ah, we'll get to see how Hades reacts to having both of us to deal with."

Iolaus trembled, and then laughed outright at that image. Pushing himself away from Hercules, he wiped his eyes with one hand while he shook his head. "Only you would see the upside of this mess, Herc! Hades is going to have a fit!"

"You think? Maybe he'll send us both back," Herc said with a soft smile.

"Stranger things have happened," Iolaus responded, looking out at the world around them. "Well, at least the monster is destroyed. Come on, let's get off this damned mountain, find someplace quiet. I don't know about you, but I don't really feel like contending with the villagers."

Herc looped an arm around Iolaus' shoulder, and they headed down the mountain path.

* * *

They'd decided to go back to what once had been Milius. It was the one place in the valley which was bound to be deserted. There was nothing there to draw anyone back to the site, just the burned out ruin left by the monster as it began its mission of destruction. It seemed fitting somehow that the last of its victims end there, too.

They drifted down to what had once been a busy, colourful, welcoming market square and stopped at the remains of what had been the steps up to the village hall and sat down. They'd been watching each other for the first signs of the poison's progress in their bodies, but so far neither felt any symptoms. Iolaus had looped the thumb of his right arm into his belt, to support it. He couldn't understand it, but it still hurt as if the mauled, crushed metal could actually feel the pressure of the dents and cracks. It didn't matter. As Hephaestus had assured him, it had lasted for as long as he'd needed it.

Staring out at the charred ruins, Iolaus murmured, "So, this is it."

Hercules turned to gaze at his lifelong friend. "Any regrets, Iolaus?"

His buddy grinned up at him. "You know, Herc, I don't. It's been an amazing adventure, all of it. We've done a lot of good, and we've had a lot of fun. So, no, no regrets. The best thing that ever happened to me was meeting you, that day in the school yard. I wouldn't trade my life with you for anything, certainly not just for a few more years."

Herc looked down, touched. "That day changed my life, Iolaus, you know that. You brought sunshine, and laughter, when I hadn't known much of either. And, you showed me what it meant to be courageous, fearless." He looked up, his gaze somewhere in the past. "You know, I didn't think very highly of people in those days. The kids at school were nasty, and I hated the way the townspeople shunned my mother. I'm not sure I would have ever really learned to care about people, if it hadn't've been for you."

Iolaus wasn't sure that was true, but he didn't feel like arguing about it. It meant more than his life was worth to know Herc felt that way about him. And, if he had helped, in some way, to have set Herc on his path, then he was grateful.

But, it wasn't in him to just sit quietly, reminiscing. His playful mind could resist wondering, "Do you think my arm got to Elysium ahead of us?" And then he snickered.

Herc looked up and laughed. "I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out!"

"What did you do with it, Herc? You never told me," Iolaus asked, his eyes twinkling.

"I, uh, buried it," Herc replied, trying not to grin. It wasn't really funny.

Iolaus snorted, then giggled. "Really?"

"Well, yeah, I couldn't just leave it lying there," Hercules assured him.

Iolaus clapped him on the shoulder, "Thanks, Herc, that was thoughtful. I appreciate it!"

"You're welcome, buddy. It was the least I could do," Hercules replied.

"Did you have a service or anything. A ceremony befitting the moment?" Iolaus enquired.

Shaking his head, Herc responded, "No, it was a quiet affair, with only your nearest and dearest present."

"My nearest, and dearest?" Iolaus hooted, and then they were both laughing uproariously.

They were still gasping, trying to stop giggling, when Ares stalked by.

Holding his side, trying for a sober expression, Herc asked, "And what, may I ask, are you doing here?"

Ares cast him one of his special, 'gods, I loathe you' looks, then kinda caved in on himself, hating to admit why he was there, but having to complete his mission. "I have to restore the town," he muttered.

"You have to..." Iolaus began.

"Restore the town?" Herc finished. "Don't tell me...Demeter is making you do this, isn't she?" he asked with a pleased grin.

"Don't gloat," snarled Ares, "It doesn't become you, Hercules." He snapped his fingers and Milius was back in all its glory, festooned for the Harvest Festival. With one last glare, Ares vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Ah...the Festival," Iolaus said inconsolably. "We're going to miss the Festival, Herc. You know how I hate to miss a Festival!"

"Don't worry," another voice intruded, with a definite tone of amusement. "You won't miss it."

Both heads swung around to regard Hephaestus who had materialized in front of them.

"And neither will we!" chirped Aphrodite, materializing and linking her arm through Heph's, grinning from ear to ear as she cuddled up close to him.

Seeing their startled and somewhat bemused expressions, the God said offhandedly, "I gave Iolaus a potion, which Demeter cooked up, in the honeyed wine which counteracts the poison. Since both of you enjoyed it last night, neither of you are in any danger."

Both heroes just stared at him for a moment, then wide smiles lit their faces. They wouldn't be seeing Hades after all! Neither of them!

Iolaus nudged Hercules as he said, "See, I told you it was good stuff!"

Herc just chuckled, "Yes, Iolaus, you did."

The gods laughed at them, but then, Heph frowned, thinking of his marvellous machine. "You were just supposed to turn it off, Iolaus, not break it," he complained.

Iolaus snorted. "It's not my fault it decided to fly off with me in its mouth!," he protested. "I'm just lucky I'm not broken!"

Hephaestus looked back at him with a crooked grin. "No, you're not broken...."

Iolaus lifted his right arm toward the God, "But, I am cracked! Any chance of getting this fixed?"

Iolaus was surprised to see Heph shake his head, 'no', and irritated. If he was going to live after all, he didn't want to go around with a bent and cracked arm. "Look, I turned off your monster for you...the least you can do is fix my arm."

"I did fix it," Heph asserted, "with a little help from a friend."

Hercules had been listening to the exchange, and when Iolaus had raised his metallic arm, it had drawn his eyes. Now, his mirth giving way to alarm, he said quietly, "Iolaus...your arm...it's bleeding."

"What?" Iolaus exclaimed with a frown as he pulled his arm around to examine it. Sure enough, a bit of blood was oozing through one of the cracks...but, how could metal bleed?

"Hercules!" Heph called, "there's a catch behind Iolaus' shoulder that holds the arm on. I think it's time to remove it."

Hercules swung his head toward his brother-in-law, his lips parted, his eyes wide...take off the metal arm? But, then Iolaus wouldn't have an arm at all. His eyes narrowed when he saw the glint of reassurance in Heph's eyes. Puzzled, uncertain, he shifted around so that he was sitting a little behind Iolaus and lifted the vest, pushing it aside, to see the back of his friend's right shoulder. Hercules found the catch and gently undid it.

"Herc...I'm not sure this is a good idea," Iolaus protested in a small voice, not wanting Herc to see the mess which was left underneath the metal. Herc gripped his buddy's left shoulder reassuringly, letting Iolaus get used to the idea. Iolaus took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded to signal he was ready.

Hercules eased the metal away from Iolaus' shoulder. He'd expected the whole arm to just lift off...but, instead, the metal slid down and away, more like a glove. As he moved the metal away, Herc could see skin emerge, unblemished skin. Holding his breath, he eased the metallic arm completely away from his friend's body, and found beneath it, a natural, healthy, arm. Iolaus' arm...and his hand.

He leaned forward, to see Iolaus' face. His buddy was staring down at his right hand. The skin of the upper arm had been scratched, and bruised a bit, probably by the crushing of the metal. This was what had been causing his pain, and the bleeding. But, the injury was only very superficial.

Iolaus flexed his fingers, touched the skin with his left hand, waggled his wrist and flexed his elbow, finally swivelling the arm in its socket. Speechless, he looked up at Hercules and saw amazed joy there. He knew his own eyes couldn't be reflecting more than confused disbelief and fear that this was an illusion, not real.

Swallowing, he turned from Herc to Hephaestus, who was regarding him silently, while 'Dite stood there beaming. Tears glistened in Iolaus' eyes as he stammered, "I...don't understand. How...?"

Heph regarded the mortal with compassion. "I built the metal arm, because you needed that to get past the driffion's teeth to turn it off...but, you also needed it to protect your new arm. For that arm, you have Demeter to thank. She's the one who's good at making natural things grow."

Iolaus bit his lip, trying to hold in a sob of relief. He'd tried not to let it get to him, tried to pretend it was okay to not have a right arm, and then later, that the metal arm was great, or at least something he'd grow accustomed to. He'd never dared hope, or even dream, of ever getting his arm back. He knew he was shaking, and he felt Herc tighten his grip to give him support.

Suddenly, the bits and pieces of the conversation he'd overheard between Heph and Ares made sense. "You got her to fix it...it was you...or you wouldn't tell them how to stop the driffion," Iolaus whispered, the tears spilling unconsciously onto his cheeks. "Heph, I don't know how I can ever thank you for this," he murmured, his voice cracking.

Heph just gave him a slight smile. "You're one of mine, Iolaus, a blacksmith needs two arms. And, well, you'd been injured trying to fix what went wrong when a god broke our rules...we owed you."

"That's for sure!" Aphrodite asserted, punching her husband's arm. "You know, Heph, if you have to build those awful machines, you should make sure there's some easy way to stop them if something goes wrong. You know Ares can't resist testing the limits!"

Heph looked down at her fondly. And had to acknowledge she was right. "All right, 'Dite! Don't lecture. I'll make the necessary modifications in the future. But, right now, we have a Festival to prepare for, so no pouting!" She was giggling when they disappeared.

Ignoring them, Herc held onto Iolaus' shoulder, rubbing his back, letting his buddy find his balance.

Finally, Iolaus looked up at his best friend, and saw tears sparkling in those eyes, too. He sniffed and rubbed his fingers over his face to wipe off the tears. "Well, uh...this was unexpected," he said, his gaze dropping down to his arm.

Herc nodded, saying with a slow smile, "Yeah...but no more than you deserve. And, at least now, I don't have to worry any more about you beating me at arm wrestling."

Iolaus laughed, "You really hated that, didn't you?"

"Let's just say it was a unique experience," Hercules chuckled. "One I won't forget," he said more softly, with a smile, remembering the light and laughter in Iolaus' eyes, his crow of delight.

Iolaus leaned back on the newly restored marble steps of the hall. "Yeah," he agreed, "all considered, this had been a very memorable few days. And now," he finished with a twinkle, "we've got the time to remember!"

Herc laughed. "Right! And, we've got a Harvest Festival to get ready for!"

Iolaus grinned at that, and nodded. "Yeah, you know me...always ready for a Festival!"

Herc stood and reached down a hand to his buddy. Iolaus grabbed it with his right hand and pulled himself to his feet. Herc clapped him on the shoulder as they turned and ambled across the village square, admiring the beautiful buildings, the blossoms and the flowers.

This was one Festival they would both really enjoy...they had a lot to celebrate.

Finis


End file.
